


In This Silver Palace

by Carriwitchets



Category: Persona 5
Genre: A little bit of extra time helps them Work Some Things Out, Gen, This is basically a "what if the trio's Palace infiltration lasted that whole week?" AU, heavy persona 5 royal spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:39:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 94,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27045862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carriwitchets/pseuds/Carriwitchets
Summary: Persona 5 Royal spoilers!--The silver Palace looms in Odaiba, but the Phantom Thieves are scattered, lost in their new reality. Joker has no choice but to take the lead with a more unconventional team. Akechi is single-minded and ferocious. And Kasumi just wants to help her senpai, but the Palace seems more and more relevant to her by the day.An in-depth look into the trials and tribulations of the Royal Trio.
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Persona 5 Protagonist, Akechi Goro & Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Persona 5 Protagonist & Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi, Yoshizawa Shinichi & Yoshizawa Sumire | Yoshizawa Kasumi
Comments: 112
Kudos: 143
Collections: Quality Persona Fics





	1. 1/2

       
_And time slips her mind  
In this silver palace  
So as not to notice the rising day  
She closed her eyes and in her dreams_   


    
       
_She's gone  
Lovely little story  
She's gone  
Lovely little story  
\- Cendrillon, Téléphone_   


If not for the cameras, Kasumi could almost believe that the Palace they’d dove into almost recklessly was beautiful. There was elegance to the pearl and golden decor, to the glimmer and shine of the walls and floor and furniture. In a way, it almost reminded her of one of her old competition leotards, with gold brilliance trimming a clean white dress to accentuate her every movement on the floor. 

And then she caught a glimpse of the ominous black lenses of the cameras hanging from the ceiling, watching their every move, and that feeling was doused in ice water.

Right. This wasn’t a field trip. This was dangerous, Kasumi was aware of that much. She’d nearly been killed the last time she came here. 

“Does she even know how to use a Persona?” 

Akechi and Akira had both pulled ahead while she’d been inspecting their surroundings, but not so far that she was in any danger of losing them. He didn’t seem to care that she could hear him, and he didn’t bother to look at her when she increased her pace to catch up.

Akira flicked his gaze to her. His response was simple and blunt. “She can. She’s pulled her weight so far, hasn’t she?”

Normally, Akira’s praise would’ve lit a warm, soft feeling in her chest, but the topic of conversation wasn’t exactly a comfortable one, so her normal responses were left by the wayside. 

Kasumi pursed her lips and interjected. “While it’s true that I haven’t used my Persona much, I’m confident I’ll be able to be useful here, Akechi-san.”

Akechi looked at her, finally. The flat, utterly disinterested look in his eyes, so _incredibly_ different from the smile he’d given her when they’d met by chance outside of the TV station, made her almost wish he hadn’t. He only stared at her for a moment, before he breathed out what was clearly a scoff and looked away, and Kasumi was almost ashamed of her own resulting relief.

His only response was an equally disinterested murmur; a shrug in the voice rather than the shoulders. “We shall see, I suppose.”

A heavy silence fell after that. Kasumi was uncertain how to respond, and Akira seemingly unwilling to. She peeked a glance at her senpai, but even before wearing a mask, he’d always been so calm and inscrutable. Now, with the mask covering half his features, it was even harder to tell what he was thinking, but she could see his lack of a smile clear as day.

Back to her own thoughts then, she supposed. They hadn’t progressed far yet into the Palace, and things had yet to grow dangerous; the very few, minimal Shadow fights they’d gotten into had been little more than scuffles, Akechi and Akira tearing through them like professionals, Kasumi scrambling to get a hit in wherever she could. It wasn’t that she was weak… it was just that she hadn’t practiced, she told herself. Practice was everything, in competition and in something like this. Of course someone like her, who had only used her Persona once before, still needed to practice more…

Those thoughts were a little too close to self-pitying for her tastes. Kasumi shook her head, ponytail bouncing lightly with the movement, and dragged in a slow breath. No more of that, she decided swiftly. If she wasn’t pulling her weight yet, she’d just have to try harder, until she absolutely _was_ a valuable member of the team, no matter what it took. She pumped a fist, a small gesture tucked close to her body, and looked up with renewed determination, only to see Akira watching her. 

Kasumi flushed, suddenly extremely grateful for her mask, and opened her mouth to come up with some sort of excuse, or maybe ask why he was watching her in the first place, when Akechi huffed out a breath ahead of them again, pausing deliberately.

“Stop.” 

The command wasn’t strictly necessary; Kasumi and Akira both automatically came to a halt when Akechi did. Down the hall, standing in front of a door (white--bordering on silver, she observed, just like the rest of this place), a Shadow in a lab coat hovered. Its faceless gaze stared straight ahead and it didn’t seem to have any intentions of moving any time soon. Kasumi wasn’t exactly a pro at judging the feelings of Shadows, not in the way her senpai seemed to be; Akira changed from mood to mood to suit his opponents’ many temperaments as he brokered with the Shadows they knocked down, mercurial enough to make her head spin. So she looked to him to see what he would do, and found that Akechi, at Akira’s other side, was doing the exact same thing.

When he caught her looking at him, Akechi arched an eyebrow, gaze faintly derisive. Kasumi pursed her lips, but didn’t pursue the matter; she wondered what he was thinking, but now wasn’t the time, was it? They still had a whole Palace to get through. She was sure she’d manage to corner him to ask what was going through his mind eventually.

Akira’s eyes closed for a long moment behind his mask, and Kasumi wasn’t sure if it was in reaction to the two of them or if he was considering the situation before him. Either way he snapped back to business quickly, striding forward determinedly. It was true there was no place to hide, no good vantage point for an ambush in this sterile white hall, but still, the utter lack of hesitation in the way that he strode towards the Shadow took her off guard; Kasumi blinked, frozen still, before she hastened to trot after him. Akechi already walked alongside him as if bored. 

That boldness was something she envied. Maybe this Palace was the answer to her lack of confidence as of late. If so, she had to embrace it with all she had, didn’t she?

The click of their heels on the white tile floor was almost unbearably loud in the otherwise dead silence of the hall. How long would it take for the Shadow to notice them? Surely not long. Would it be their movements, or her own heartbeat that alerted the Shadow first? Or was she the only one who could hear how loudly her heart beat to approach a Shadow, even now, after a handful of scattered skirmishes…?

In the end, it was neither of the two. It was only when Akira stepped right in front of the Shadow that it noticed them, straightening with an alarmed noise. He adjusted his glove, quirking an eyebrow, and asked simply, “Ready?”

Kasumi opened her mouth to respond. Akechi cut her off immediately, his words spat out. “Just get on with it, Joker!”

She pursed her lips again, feeling the possible beginnings of a headache forming behind her eyes, an ugly cluster of irritation and exposed nerves that she couldn’t explain away. This wasn’t like her. She so rarely would get so easily irritated, so easily flustered by a little bit of rudeness. Her stomach roiled faintly and Kasumi immediately put it down to hunger. Of course. That was why she was so sensitive to Akechi’s aggressiveness all of a sudden. It wasn’t like her at all to be so easily annoyed, after all.

There was a whisper above the light rumbles of hunger, though; a voice in the depths of her mind that was just too faint to hear, the echoes of a voice that felt eerily familiar. It was a similar strand of herself, but deepened, hard words sharpened with musical notes, and it reminded Kasumi of that day she and Cendrillon first met one another. But it was so much fainter and unintelligible now, as if shrouded in static.

Kasumi shook her head firmly. Another thing to handle later. Never mind the fact that that pile of “later” was growing to be a little unmanageable as of late.

“I’m ready, Senpai.”

Akira nodded, adjusting his glove once more. At this point, the Shadow was approaching, reaching for a communication device as if to call for help, and suddenly Akira was off like a shot, a streak of black that slammed into the Shadow like a freight train. Kasumi could barely keep him in her line of sight. It was only after the communication device fell to the ground, a deep gash revealing its sparking insides before it faded into inky nothingness that she realized Akira had hit that first, and _then_ snagged the mask, so the Shadow wouldn’t be able to call for back-up.

She hadn’t even thought of that for a moment. Had she been doing the ambush, she would’ve gone straight for the mask, possibly allowing more Shadows to converge on them. Kasumi was honest enough with herself to know that much. But rather than make her feel disheartened, Kasumi felt a certain, sudden motivation surge through her. Right. She had so much room to grow here. It was different, wasn’t it? It was different from gymnastics, where she’d tried so hard and soared so high and then stalled. Here… she knew exactly what the right path forward was.

She took up her stance in their formation to the right of Akira, blade raised high. The Shadows coalesced, caricatures of jesters; their sharp, gleaming scythes were held aloft.

And, as seemed to happen at the start of every battle they faced, Kasumi’s adrenaline kicked in, and it felt as though for a brief moment, everything slowed down. She could see Akira, flicking the dagger in his hand as if he was just entirely unable to stand still. That wasn’t it, she knew. He was just that confident. She could see Akechi as well, the young detective having taken up his position flanking Akira on the other side. Akechi’s eyes were fixed on the Shadows, mouth twisted into a rictus shape. She could even see his clawed fingers flexing on the hilt of his sword, and for a moment, Kasumi could fancy that she could almost feel his impatience to get to the fighting, to slam that blade into one of the Shadows and tear straight through them.

And then, as always, the battle exploded into sudden, fierce motion, and it was all Kasumi could do to keep up.

Akechi moved first, slamming his blade into the nearest Shadow with nearly reckless abandon. There wasn’t time to think before Akira flung himself forward as well, neatly intercepting a scythe from the other Shadow on his dagger before it could cut into Akechi’s exposed back.

Still, a dagger wasn’t the best weapon to tackle a scythe with. The length of the curved blade was unwieldy to try to fend off, and the total _lack_ of concern from behind him was hardly any help, Kasumi imagined. Akechi made a sound somewhere between a snarl and a cackle, and Kasumi almost fancied that she heard Akira huff out an aggravated sigh as he planted his heels and tried to shove back against the Shadow as the scythe’s blade edged ever closer.

And then Kasumi had to dive to one side, sensing the blade of the final Shadow a moment before it cut straight through her. In this, at least, her training kicked in immediately; she tucked and rolled, springing neatly up to her feet in a movement that was so smooth it startled even the Shadow. It turned to try to attack again, but this time the length of the scythe was a detriment. Kasumi danced into its space quickly and stabbed, blade cutting straight through the Shadow and movement bringing her face to face with its eerily blank countenance.

The Shadow’s face did not change, not even as she yanked her blade straight through it, using her momentum as she twirled away to cut through cleanly. The Shadow hit the ground behind her with a thud, but Kasumi didn’t have the time to check if it was finished off or not; Akira and Akechi were still in a tight spot--the tight spot that Akechi’s seeming lack of concern for anything but the battle before him had put them in. Akechi’s clawed hand dug into the side of the Shadow closest to him, his features frozen in a snarl, but Akira was slowly giving ground despite himself, locked in a battle with that scythe.

Kasumi strode forward, flicking black gunk from her rapier, and lifted a hand to her mask. Before she even called forth Cendrillon, she knew it was a perfect hit; for a moment, she felt perfectly in tune with her Persona as spears of light slammed into the two remaining Shadows, melting them away with brightness that was almost searing.

For a moment, Kasumi felt like she was flying, like she was a step away from the top of the podium, like she could take on _the world_.

And then there was nothing but her ragged breathing in her own ears as they were left alone in the hallway.

Akira and Akechi were frozen in place, but then Akira let his arms drop, breathing out a soft sigh as he flicked his dagger away with a quick, tidy movement. He rubbed the back of his head with his other gloved hand, flashing Kasumi a small smile.

“Nice work, Kasumi,” he said as he stepped towards her. “You really helped out in that battle.”

The praise made her feel soft and floaty inside, and Kasumi channeled that feeling into a sincere response. “It’s my pleasure to help, Senpai.” With a fair amount of excitement, she continued, “I really feel like I’m starting to find a groove in my fighting--”

“Ugh, enough already.” Akechi’s voice, scathing and sharp, cut in.

Kasumi was starting to get used to Akechi’s constant commentary, but that didn’t make it any more welcome. She frowned, turning to face him, but Akechi continued easily, ignoring her expression. “If you are both finished being needlessly sentimental, could we continue? There is a great deal of Palace to go, and I would rather not be stuck dawdling any longer than is strictly necessary.”

“It wasn’t--” Kasumi began to protest automatically, brow furrowed with her frown. Taking a moment to take stock after a battle wasn’t any sort of _dawdling_...!

Akira sighed. “Alright, Akechi, we’ll keep going. We should be able to get through this door now, so let’s keep moving.”

And then he glanced back at Kasumi, flashing her a gently apologetic expression. “He’s just kind of like that,” he said in a completely normal tone of voice, seemingly unbothered by the fact that Akechi could no doubt hear every word. “Try not to let it get to you. You really did do great in that fight.”

Akira paused, and then a near-mischievous smirk crossed his face. “Don’t you think so, Akechi?”

Akechi, who had been testing the door and seemingly trying to ignore both of them, stiffened. To Kasumi, this felt a fair bit like poking an angry, grumpy bear, which was something she was quite sure you were not supposed to do. Still, it was too late now, and Akira waited patiently, a hand on his hip, expression and posture so casual she almost felt envious. And then slowly, Akechi huffed out a faint breath.

“Yoshizawa-san did...fine,” he said, tone flat. “Now, if you will, Joker? The door is unlocked.”

Get on with it, in other words; the meaning was more than clear enough to Kasumi. Still, even as Akira hummed an assenting noise and moved forward to open the door, Kasumi found herself staring at Akechi. He could have easily taken the opportunity to insult her more. Akira had left her wide open to it--or so she’d thought. But instead…

Akechi, catching her staring once again, just gestured her through the door sardonically, lips pressed together in a thin line. There would be no more kind words from that corner, she was sure. But this presented Kasumi with a new puzzle, so she wasn’t too bothered by that. Instead, she stepped through the door obediently, following Akira as he began to stroll forward. Had Akechi been… well, not kind, but at least not insulting because of her performance? Or had it been simply because Akira had been the one asking? If Kasumi had been the one to ask that, what sort of response would she get?

This was a puzzle she wrestled with as they walked down the next hall, which did wonderfully at keeping her mind off the fact that it looked exactly the same as the last hall. When she had known Akechi before, he’d always seemed like such a pleasant person. Getting to know Akechi now, he seemed more like he didn’t care about a single person. But that wasn’t true, was it? For better or for worse, he at least had some vested interest in her senpai, didn’t he?

She wondered what sort of history they had together, vaguely. Naturally, she’d fallen into position walking behind both of them as they strode forward, and that gave Kasumi the perfect opportunity to observe them now. They were talking, discussing their current progress in the Palace (or lack thereof).

“It is taking us far too long to get through such a straightforward Palace,” Akechi said, stalking forward as if with single-minded determination. “If we run into puzzles or traps later on, it’s only going to take even longer.”

Akira took that calmly, as he seemed to take almost everything. “We’ll get through it,” he said in response, adjusting a glove idly. “We just have to keep moving forward. If we rush it too much, we’re likely to run into trouble, especially without a navigator or backup.”

Like this, there was calm. Like this, Kasumi thought, it was almost like camaraderie.

And then Akechi said, “You may be content to take this slowly, dragging along some fresh deadweight as we go, but I for one have no intentions of remaining in such a world for any longer than I need to. I’d almost think you don’t even care that your so-called friends are trapped up in this mess more than any of us.”

It was as if the atmosphere froze and crystalized. Akira stopped where he’d been walking, heel pressed firmly to the ground, mid-stride. He didn’t move. Akechi hesitated for a moment, before he pressed his lips together stubbornly. The way his hand inched towards his gun made her wonder if he was legitimately preparing for a fight.

And then Akira sighed.

“You aren’t the only one who wants things to go back to normal,” Akira said, tone still stiff, still a little frosty. Of course he felt that way; it was so obvious. All of his friends, his teammates, his family… they were totally different now, weren’t they? Kasumi couldn’t even begin to think about how that must feel. Still, Akira continued as calmly as he seemed to be able to, starting to walk again. “We’ll get through this Palace together. Kasumi’s assistance has been helpful so far.”

He didn’t say it, but there was a solid sense that his statement finished with the finality of a _and that’s that._ Akechi looked away, and scoffed, but said nothing.

And Kasumi, following along in their footsteps, was even more puzzled. Had she been wrong? Were they not friends after all? Like this, it felt more like enemies than any sort of friendship.

Something about the atmosphere was brittle, like a phone that had been dropped onto the sidewalk, a hundred tiny cracks spiderwebbing across the screen. It felt like it would only take something small for the whole thing to shatter. Laden down with that tension, Kasumi remained silent, following after the two downtrodden teens as they walked through the oppressive white blankness of the Palace.

* * *

Down two more hallways that looked exactly the same, up a flight of stairs that Kasumi was almost convinced were made of some sort of sturdy white plastic, and around a sharp corner, they found a safe room. Akira walked to it immediately without consulting either of them or even pausing for a moment; once he pushed the door open, he flopped into a chair with his hands in his pockets and said nothing.

Akechi lingered by the door for a moment before he stalked off to the far side of the room, where he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed and his head lowered enough that it was impossible to see his expression beneath his mask.

Kasumi hesitated a moment longer, before she carefully walked to the other side of the table from Akira, slowly lowering herself into that seat. Akira, almost as if on automatic, set a few cans of drinks on the table, where they remained untouched.

The atmosphere was oppressive still; there hadn’t been any further conversation after that last tense, brief exchange of words between Akira and Akechi. Even their battle chatter had been cut quiet and boiled down to its barest of bones; Kasumi had never thought she would miss hearing Akechi snarl about how terrible it would be to be the last to die in a group of Shadows, but--okay, no, she still didn’t miss that, but it certainly felt uncomfortable for things to be so quiet and stilted after what she’d been starting to get used to.

Theoretically, they were supposed to be resting before they continued onward, and in truth, Kasumi was grateful to get off her feet. She was used to her costume for the most part, the leotard much like her practice leotards for ballet, and the coat was just frilly enough to make her want to twirl and dance just to see how it would make her routines flow better. But the _heels_ were like nothing she ever really wore before, and certainly not while dancing, and the balls of her feet ached. If not for the atmosphere and the fact that it was her senpai and a rather sadistic Akechi in the room with her, she’d have toed them off by now.

Ah well. Even just taking a breather was enough for now. So physically, her feet were grateful… but mentally? Sitting in this stifling room almost felt worse than battling Shadows outside of it. Akechi was a bundle of tics, Kasumi had begun to notice slowly over their time here, which was so different from the Akechi she’d known before. Calling said movements nervous tics would be something he would find insulting, most likely, but she suspected that wasn’t too far off from the truth. Now that he wasn’t wearing a placid, pleasant mask, it felt like he was always moving. He tapped his foot on the sterile floor of the palace whenever they paused, his arms crossed. He scratched the claws of his gloves over the hilt of his sword, seemingly paying no mind to how the noise set Kasumi clearly on edge. And he would do what he was doing now, shifting back and forth from foot to foot, as he stared at the two of them.

Impatient. He was so impatient.

In contrast, Akira’s movements were almost languid. He remained flopped in his seat, one leg crossed over the other as if to state quite firmly that they weren’t going anywhere any time soon. Occasionally, he tugged one of his gloves down, or fiddled with a pocket to make sure that some of his infiltration gear was exactly where it was supposed to be. But otherwise, he barely moved at all.

Glancing between the two of them, Kasumi slowly came to two conclusions.

One: this absolutely had to be something they were both doing on purpose, for reasons that mostly mystified her. Were they trying to drive each other up the wall? Weren’t they working together? Or, she amended to herself, thinking of the earlier conversation, maybe this was a stand-off to see who would crack first.

Two: she would give anything to be able to dance right now.

The second conclusion was perhaps a little odd, sitting in a dingy safe room in a dangerous Palace with aching feet and two boys who refused to talk to each other. But it was absolutely the stifling atmosphere that made her want to break free. It was exactly the lack of communication that made her want to do something, _anything_ to shake things up a bit. A moment like this reminded her of why she’d always loved her sport to begin with.

She planted her feet more firmly on the ground, but restrained herself; even Kasumi knew that in real life, rhythmic gymnastics was hardly the answer to everything, or even most things. But it seemed that was movement enough to cause a change. Akira lifted his head to glance at her, and then his lips quirked into a faintly amused smile. She wondered just how many of her thoughts he had figured out--Akira _had_ always seemed unnervingly good at figuring out what she was thinking.

But he said nothing to call her out, instead stretching languidly once more before he finally pushed himself to his feet, as if he’d decided just then to be all business again. His tone was deceptively light as he asked, “Is everyone ready to keep going?”

Judging by the look on Akechi’s face, Kasumi instantly felt like he was going to say something sardonic again, despite the olive branch Akira was silently offering. She opened her mouth to say something, to try to interrupt, but she was a beat too slow--

“We’ve _been_ ready, Joker. You were the one who insisted on taking time to rest when nobody even required it.”

There it was. Slowly, Kasumi closed her mouth, the chipper words she’d been ready to offer shriveling on her tongue. The cracks spread further.

Akira turned to face Akechi, his hands still tucked into his pockets, posture for all the world calm and relaxed. But Kasumi had fought alongside him in enough battles to know that he was tense and coiled like a spring. Beneath the mask, his lips were pressed into a tight, displeased line.

Akechi either didn’t process the warning signs or, as was far more likely, he just didn’t care, because he continued, eyes fixed on Akira, “I would have thought you would be in the biggest rush of all of us, considering your poor, brainwashed followers. But maybe you’ve finally accepted what we’ve all known all along--they’re deadweight. Is it a relief to finally rid yourself of them?”

“Akechi.” It was just one word, but there was warning in each syllable as Akira faced Akechi squarely, hands slowly curling into fists.

Akechi ignored him. “They couldn’t even break out of this dream world long enough to help their dear, _dear_ leader. Abandoning them after they abandoned you is only fitting.”

Kasumi, still seated at the table, dragged in a slow breath, lips parting as if to try to say something again. But… what could she say? She didn’t know anything about their history, this foray into the Palace was making that very clear. She’d thought she’d had a peaceful acquaintanceship with Akechi, but she hadn’t known him at all. And while she felt like she was close to Akira, it was becoming more and more evident that he’d had so much more going on than she was ever aware of.

Still. She had to do something. The situation was spiraling fast, and it seemed like she was the only level head remaining in this safe room.

“Senpai, Akechi-san, that’s--”

The words had barely left her tongue before Akechi cut her off once again, arching a sardonic eyebrow at Akira and drawling out in a slow, deliberate tone, “All of those bonds you touted as sacrosanct, yet where are they now?”

He gestured around the room with one clawed hand, arrogance dripping from every movement. Kasumi, watching Akira, winced as his gloves creaked from how tightly he was clenching his hands into fists.

And then, Akechi said, “Oh, that’s right… they’re not here. They’ve only ever been dragging you down. Cut them loose. Give up on trying to bring them back. Focus on what _really_ matters here. It is better to handle everything on your own, rather than have to depend on people who are only going to let you down.”

Akira was frighteningly still, but when he responded, his voice was soft. “Is that how you felt, Akechi? When you refused to let anyone help you at all?”

Akechi laughed, a jagged, rough noise. “Why would I have ever let you and your pathetic friends help me? I think they’ve proven their worth already to us all. I’d rather die than depend on people like them--”

The speed with which Akira flung himself over the table floored Kasumi despite herself; it was only instinct that caused her to tumble backwards, chair clattering to the floor as she tucked and rolled to her feet. She whirled immediately, only to find Akira and Akechi also on the floor, a tussling pile of leather and dark fabric.

“What, exactly, is your _problem_?” Akira hissed out, voice low but furious. He had Akechi’s hands pinned to the ground by his side, but that didn’t last long; Akechi gave Akira a humorless grin and brought a knee up, jamming it into the Phantom Thief’s gut. Akira, knocked onto his side, wheezed.

“I have no idea what you mean,” Akechi said, almost blandly. “I’m only telling you the truth. You should be _grateful_.”

Despite his nearly calm tone, he stepped towards Akira, adjusting his gloves deliberately.

“Stop lying to yourself,” Akira responded, his eyes narrowed, braced on one knee. “We wanted to _help_ you--!”

Akechi snarled in response to that and Kasumi reacted immediately.

She stepped forward. “W-wait, Akechi-san! This isn’t what we should be doing here! We should--”

“ _Don’t_.”

Both Akechi and Akira said the word, nearly in tandem, and Kasumi froze. They both didn’t want her to interfere? This was something they both wanted to continue? That moment was more than enough to allow Akira to regain his feet, and Akechi’s displeased grin stretched further beneath his mask as he stepped forward and, without an ounce of hesitation, threw a punch. Akira saw it coming, at least partially; he ducked to one side, taking the punch glancingly to an arm, and while he huffed out a breath, it didn’t stop him from retaliating. Instead he moved forward again, drew back his own fist, and slammed it into the hinge of Akechi’s mask as hard as he could.

The top half of Akechi’s mask went flying, the faux-detective’s head snapping back as he stumbled.

Akira cursed under his breath, clutching his hand to his chest; Akechi’s mask was absolutely made of some sort of metal.

For a moment, they both paused, staring at each other, chest heaving. And then Akechi snarled and dove at Akira, both of them going down in yet another heap, hitting the ground with a solid thump that had Kasumi wincing.

“You’re the one who came to _me_ for help!”

Carefully, she skirted the fighting, leaning over to delicately pick up Akechi’s mask. She inspected it for a moment, trailing red gloved fingers over the visor. All jagged edges and metal and sharpness, just like Akechi himself. How ironic, that Akechi’s Metaverse mask was what really showed who he was so clearly.

“Do not overestimate yourself! It is not your help I require, only your muscle--and only because you were too lost and confused to even think of solving it yourself! If I hadn’t, you would still be moping in that cafe!”

Enough was enough. Maybe they didn’t want her to interfere, but she had her own opinions on this whole mess, and as part of this ragged team? Her opinions mattered too. So she stepped closer still, lips pressed together tightly, swiping the nearest can off the table as she walked, strides purposeful. She gave it a brief glance. Manta soda? Well, whatever--it would do.

Akechi had Akira pinned this time, but only barely; the Wild Card swung another fist, a blow that Akechi only narrowly ducked this time, his eyes narrowing.

“If… you’ve got something to say…!” Akira grunted out, “Just come out and _say it_...! Would it… kill you to be a little more… honest--!”

Akechi reared back, offense in the furrow of his brow and every line of his body, and Akira took the opportunity to flip him, slamming him into the ground beneath him suddenly.

Akechi snarled. “I have _nothing_ to say to the likes of you--!”

Kasumi took a deep breath, and snapped open the can, the pop of the fizz of the soda lost under the sounds of the scuffle. One more step closer, and she was close enough--she stared down at Akira and Akechi, so engrossed in each other that they didn’t even notice she was there, and then she lifted the can and upended it over both of their heads.

The shock of a sudden dousing of soda was more than enough; Akira scrambled away like a startled cat, Akechi spluttering as he also tried to drag himself away, and when they were both a safe distance, all they could do was stare at her with wide eyes.

Kasumi met their gazes as fiercely as she could, Akechi’s mask still tucked under one arm, the other holding the empty can of Manta unapologetically.

“That’s enough, don’t you think?” she said. “It’s probably good for both of you to get your aggression out, but we came here for a reason.”

Akira, rumpled curls weighed down and dripping with liquid, a nasty bruise already forming on one cheekbone, opened his mouth to respond. Kasumi looked at him immediately, brow furrowing.

“I know he’s been difficult, Joker-senpai, but you’re the one who knows how he is better than anyone, right?” She huffed. “I’m not saying getting upset on behalf of your friends is wrong, but we’re doing this for all of them, aren’t we?”

Before Akira, blinking owlishly, could respond, she whirled on Akechi. “And you, Akechi-san! I understand that this is who you truly are after all, not that person I thought I knew…”

A beat. She shook herself, and continued fiercely, “But even this side of you must know that there are lines you should not cross if you truly are focused on us making progress through this Palace!”

Akechi’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing, ignoring how blood slowly trickled down his jaw from a split lip. There was only silence, heavy and oppressive.

Kasumi took a deep breath, and dropped the can. The noise it made as it clunked against the floor and rolled away was loud in the sudden silence. Akira recovered first, as he was prone to do; he stood up, ruffling his own hair and wincing at the sticky-wet sensation of the soda, before he just sighed.

“We should keep moving. Unless you both still need a breather after all of that,” he said, sounding far more like his usual self. Were they just going to shove it all under the metaphorical rug, then? Kasumi couldn’t tell if she was relieved or not by that possibility.

Akira slowly stood, walking right up to Kasumi, and it took all she had to stand straight and poised, eyes fixed on him. Bold, calm, and steady, those were the keys. She stood by what she said, and so she had no reason to back down here and now. Akechi met her eyes for a long moment… and then huffed out a faint breath.

“Very well, Yoshizawa-san. It’s true that I may have...forgotten myself there a little bit.”

She breathed out a sigh of relief, but Akechi’s eyebrow just arched slowly. “Well?” he said, voice dry. Kasumi blinked, for a moment thoroughly clueless, and Akechi gestured towards the mask in her arms with clearly unraveling, very limited patience.

“Oh…! Right! Here you are, Akechi-san!” Kasumi said, stumbling over her words and handing it over with a meek bow of her head. He snagged it from her with a put-upon sigh, yanking it away and settling it over his head without bothering to wipe away the blood from his face.

Kasumi watched him go, a hand on her hip. He stalked a few steps away, only to pause when he came face to face with Akira.

“That doesn’t count,” Akechi mumbled sullenly, a hand pressed to his aching side.

Akira looked at him blankly, and with impatient irritation, he continued, “The duel, you--you simpleton! That doesn’t count as our rematch.”

Then Akechi strode forward, brushing past Akira hastily. Kasumi blinked after him and then looked at Akira, only to find a small, odd little smile on his face.

Somehow, something seemed to have begun to be settled, Kasumi thought to herself as she quietly followed Akechi out of the safe room so Akira could take up the rear. She couldn’t even begin to say what it was, in truth, but… perhaps Akira and Akechi needed this Palace too, just like she did, if for very different reasons.

She stepped out of the safe room to find both Akechi and Akira shifting uncomfortably, and Kasumi tilted her head curiously. For all of the rush Akechi had seemed to be in, and for all of Akira’s determined focus as he headed forward, she thought they’d have already started up the infiltration again, not just remained standing here.

“Is everything okay…?” Kasumi asked, and Akira sighed, lifting his glove and curling his fingers against his palm for a light, loose fist. And then he uncurled his fingers, each one sticking slightly to the leather. Oh. The soda. It was drying properly now, which meant it was getting very, very sticky. Akira demonstrated further, lifting his gloved hand to his mask. When he pulled away, the mask half came with it, equally sticky from the soda, before he carefully shoved it back into place.

“Ah…” Kasumi breathed out slowly, a faint flush decorating her cheeks, mostly hidden by her mask. At least, she hoped it was hidden by her mask. Akechi, standing off to the side, had his arms crossed, but beneath his mask it seemed like his hair was sticking in unfortunate clumps.

Kasumi tugged at her own ponytail, fiddling with it while she searched for the words. “I’m not sorry, exactly, but…”

“Maybe it’s time for us to take a break,” Akira sighed, though the expression on his face seemed more ruefully amused than anything. “We’re not going to make very good progress like this, and it’s probably a good time to go back and cool our heads anyway.”

Akira paused to give them both time to interject, but even Akechi remained silent, though Kasumi couldn’t tell if it was agreeable or sullen silence. Maybe Akira could tell, because he nodded to himself confidently and started to tug off his gloves.

“We at least were able to get a good look at the inside, and experienced some of the Shadows here,” he said, shoving his gloves into a random pocket and immediately digging in another. “That's not a bad first go. We still have time.” He tugged out a small tool, one Kasumi had never seen before, and with a cocky grin, he lifted it up.

“Time to get out of here.”

And he tossed the Goho-M at the ground, leaving nothing but a pool of soda and a discarded can in a tucked away safe room to show they were ever there.


	2. 1/3

Kasumi woke the next day feeling like her mouth was full of cotton. She slowly sat up, blinking blearily as she looked around her room, before she yawned and rubbed at an eye. It was automatic, the way the first thing she did every single morning was to reach out, still half-asleep, and snag her hair tie so she could tie back her hair. It didn’t do a thing to help her wake up any better, though; she yawned again, beginning a luxurious stretch--which she aborted suddenly, wincing as all of her muscles complained at her loudly and immediately at once.

Phew. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time, even after her coach’s most grueling practices. Sure, she and Akechi and Akira had put in a fair amount of work the day before, but still, it wasn’t anything too far beyond what she was capable of… was it the Metaverse that made it so much more exhausting? It was true that she wasn’t too used to the Metaverse yet, so maybe that was it.

She’d have to ask Akira when she saw him.

But for now, there was the daunting task of getting out of bed, something Kasumi accomplished by swinging her feet over to rest on the floor… and proceeding to slide out of bed and into a heap on the floor. With her cheek pressed against the comforting solidity of her bedroom floor, Kasumi just groaned softly. She knew exactly what she needed to do, as any athlete would. She just wasn’t really looking forward to it.

It took her an hour to do what should have been a twenty minute stretch routine, but by the end of it, she was able to stand and walk with only vaguely lingering soreness. That would have to be good enough; she wanted to be ready if Akira decided that it was time to head back into the Palace. Which reminded her… Kasumi fished out her phone to shoot him a quick message.

    **Kasumi:** I’m ready to go back into the Palace whenever you need me!  
 **Kasumi:** There were also a few things I wanted to ask you about whenever I can, Akira-senpai.  
 **Kasumi:** Just let me know!

That would have to do; he didn’t respond, but he could’ve still been asleep for all she knew. For now, there was winter break to contend with, now that she was feeling like a human being again. Kasumi dressed quickly, coat folded over one arm as she trotted down the stairs to greet her father for breakfast.

“Are you going out?” he asked, blinking behind his glasses as he set breakfast down for the both of them--a slice of toast and an egg for himself, triple that for Kasumi. She draped her coat over the back of her chair and settled in to eat quite happily, humming an acknowledging noise, picking up a slice of toast.

“I’m intending to,” she said, biting into her toast a moment later. She chewed, savoring the taste, before she continued, “There are some things I really need to do today.”

He looked at her for a long moment, and Kasumi wondered what was going through his head, though she said nothing as she waited for his response. And much as she expected, he just nodded, offering her a small smile. “Alright then. Just keep that phone on you in case I need to get a hold of you.”

Kasumi nodded eagerly. “Of course, Dad!”

With that settled, she could really focus on devouring breakfast--which she did, deliberately and enthusiastically. As soon as she’d popped the last piece of toast into her mouth, she was up on her feet, snagging her coat and tugging it on as she walked to the doorway. Tugging on her shoes was the matter of a moment, and then she called out a quick, “I’m off!” and did just that, door shutting gently behind her.

She had been telling the truth, after all, when she’d told her father that there were things she needed to do. If Kasumi was going to manage to do all of them, she needed to be prompt. So she strode with purposeful steps towards the train station, hands shoved into her coat pockets as a way to try to ward off the cold. Her muscles still twinged with every step, and she couldn’t help but wonder if Akira and Akechi felt the same way--or were they too used to it, and didn’t feel even a hint of soreness today? If that was the case, Kasumi absolutely knew she would be at least a _little_ jealous.

A quick glance at her phone confirmed that Akira still hadn’t texted her back, which meant her first order of business was to check on the Palace. She knew it was likely ridiculous, but it had appeared so abruptly that part of her was worried it would disappear in the same exact way, leaving them with no way forward at all. So she hopped on the train, tapping the tip of her shoe against the ground idly as she waited for her stop. She’d never been so fidgety before… maybe she was picking up traits from her companions at this point.

Either way, it didn’t take too terribly long for the announcement of Odaiba when the intercom next crackled to life, and she perked up. The moment of truth was finally here, and Kasumi hastily bustled off the train and onto the streets proper to see for herself.

It was almost anti-climactic. The Palace was right there, same as before, everyone ignoring it as if a gigantic research facility in the middle of Odaiba was perfectly normal. That was a good thing, certainly, but part of Kasumi still felt a little… uneasy. There was no reason for it. This was good news, no matter how she looked at it.

… Kasumi shook it away as hunger messing with her (breakfast had been rather small, after all), and turned on her heel. They needed to get through the Palace, and the Palace was still there, arching high above her, unfeeling and cold. That was a good thing.

She just wished she could believe it.

There were still things she needed to do today, and Kasumi was pressingly aware that Akira could call at any time to decide to go into the Palace. But even so, she found herself wandering Odaiba, feet taking her nowhere in particular aimlessly. Odaiba wasn’t quite as pretty during the early January morning as it was at night, when all of the lights were lit up and Rainbow Bridge was on full display. But it still made for a good walk, and Kasumi found herself humming lightly under her breath as she hopped up onto the curb alongside the sidewalk and began to walk as if on the balance beam, one foot carefully in front of the other. Her heels added a bit of a challenge to the exercise, but it was still barely anything she had to think about; her natural and trained grace took care of the added difficulty easily.

Kasumi was nearing Palette Town now; she could see its towering buildings from where she walked. She hadn’t ever spent too much time here, but she could remember going here with her sister to shop and catch lunch. They’d always really enjoyed it, she remembered, but for some reason, when she tried to grasp the memory more tangibly, it faded from her grasp. Which restaurant had they eaten at? A cafe, surely…? Which shopping had they done? Had they been shopping for clothes…?

… Kasumi shook her head, frowning a little to herself. The situation felt a little strange, and that must have been what was influencing her thoughts. She just had to figure out what was so strange about it.

It took her a moment longer, looking around curiously, her hands tucked into her pockets as she strolled along the curve, before it finally hit her.

There were so few people around.

It wasn’t like there was _nobody_ ; Kasumi could see a few stragglers wandering here and there. But Palette Town was a popular shopping and tourist destination, and for a school-free, winter break day, she’d expected to see far more people taking advantage of it. Instead, the walkway was nearly empty, and the shopping center didn’t look too terribly busy either. She wasn’t sure what to make of it.

She paused in place on the curb, posture balance-beam-perfect, to listen to the conversation of two people wandering past her.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go to that cafe?” the young woman asked, head tilted. There was a smile on her face, a gently ribbing smile. But something about it seemed a little too wide. “I thought you had a crush on that waitress. She works today, doesn’t she?”

The young man just rubbed the back of his head, and responded almost dreamily, “I think I got over it today. Suddenly it just… didn’t seem that important. I’m just so happy already with my life, you know?”

Kasumi blinked slowly, head turned as she watched them walk past, all pretenses of subtlety long gone. It didn’t seem to matter; neither of them noticed her. They were far too absorbed in their conversation. Kasumi watched them go for a long moment, before she shoved her hands more deeply into her pockets. They were happy, right? So happy they didn’t feel the need to try to escape, or to pine, or to hope for something they could not attain.

So why did that make her feel so stifled?

There was something about everyone’s happiness and the emptiness together that, in her brain, didn’t make sense. If everyone was so happy… why weren’t they out and about, enjoying the brand new year for everything that it was and represented? Why was this pathway leading to one of the most popular tourist day trips in Odaiba so _unused_?

Quite suddenly, Kasumi wished she wasn’t alone. There were so few people around, and even the few who did pass paid her no mind, most with the same dreamy, distantly content looks on their faces. She wished Akira would text her back. She tugged out her phone, checking it again, and felt even more alone when there was no response there for her. He was probably busy, but even so… did he know how adrift she felt like this?

Kasumi took a step forward, her lips pursed, and another. Deep breath in, deep breath out. As if on automatic, her toe pointed for the next step forward, leg straight. She stepped forward elegantly, other foot dipping off the side of the curve and back up before she set it delicately in front of her, straight-legged. It was almost automatic then, the way she kept her back straight, her arms held out before and behind her, fingers draped elegantly. It had been some time since she’d walked the balance beam; it wasn’t exactly part of a normal rhythmic gymnastics routine. But her body remembered all-too-well, and when she closed her eyes, it was like she was back there again, practicing and practicing and practicing to make her dreams come true.

She wondered what the expression she’d worn on top of the balance beam had been back then. Was it that same dreamy, nearly empty expression that adorned the faces of everyone she passed?

Kasumi took another step forward, and spun on the balls of her feet, wobbling only a little on the narrow edge of the pathway. The routine she’d once had for the balance beam was only half-remembered in her mind, but she followed it anyway as best she could. One arm raised, chin up, lift a leg up behind and to the back of her head, then swing it forward for another elegant step. Another step forward, and split jump, legs up in the air, toes pointed. She wobbled more when she landed, the curb narrower than she’d anticipated, and her heels more unforgiving than she remembered her bare feet being. But she didn’t fall, and Kasumi straightened again, dragging in a deep breath. She’d been taught to always keep her chin up and her back straight. Elegance was in boldness, confidence and poise, so that was what she needed to strive for. When she danced like this, for a brief moment the world made sense and nothing felt strange any longer, and it was no wonder, she thought, that she was so focused on regaining her old, lost confidence.

Another step, a deep breath in. She pointed her front toe, pressing against the bottom of the toe of her heels.

When Kasumi performed like this, she felt like she could fly.

Perhaps it was that soaring feeling that pushed her into continuing, even though this was not a balance beam (it was narrower, in fact) and even though she hadn’t performed on a balance beam in years. Even so, she could still remember her routine. Next was…

She skipped forward lightly, feet steady on the curbside, and leapt. Front handsprings were simple at this point after so many years; she felt steady as she pressed off the curb with her hands, neatly launching herself forward once more. Her back arched, her legs straight and steady, and she landed.

On the floor, it would’ve been a perfect front handspring. On a curb, in heels and an oversized coat, it was less so; she landed, but awkwardly, and stumbled off the curb as she failed to stick the landing. Kasumi’s training was enough to catch herself even so, but not before she’d stumbled right into someone’s chest.

Reality came crashing down on her, and she remembered where she was a little too late. Flushing, Kasumi scrambled back away from the person she’d run so gracelessly into, bowing her head immediately in apology.

“I am so, so terribly sorry…! I should have been paying attention to who was around, and where I am…” Her eyes were fixed on the ground, cheeks nearly as red as her hair. “You’re not hurt, are you?” she asked, finally lifting her gaze as she did. When she realized who it was she’d run into, an unattractive choking noise escaped her before she lifted a hand and slapped it over her mouth immediately.

A very unimpressed Goro Akechi stared back at her, one hand on his hip. He looked a little rumpled--unsurprising, considering a teenage girl had just slammed into him--but otherwise none the worse for wear, sans for his mood. It was true that one of the items on Kasumi’s list had been to find him to speak with him outside of the Palace, but she’d been hoping the circumstances would have been at least a little better than this. The stare he pinned her with made her want to shrink back and bury away her embarrassment and sheepishness in equal measure, but now that she’d found him, retreat wasn’t really an option either.

“Yoshizawa-san,” he said dryly, an eyebrow arching. “What, exactly, do you think you’re doing?”

It was tempting to shrink further beneath the judgement in his gaze, but Kasumi had wanted to see him for a reason, and she couldn’t exactly give up now that one of her goals was right in front of her. That wasn’t how she’d been taught. That wasn’t the sort of person she was.

So she straightened, taking a slow, deep breath. “I was...practicing. For a future meet.”

Akechi’s second eyebrow raised to join the first, practically spelling out his incredulity. “Are you certain you have the time to worry about something like that right now?”

Kasumi’s embarrassment bled away, replaced by fiery offense at his obvious disdain. She hadn’t actually been practicing with any seriousness, but his implication that her practice and her goals weren’t important at the moment was beyond offensive. She propped a hand on her hip, a huff escaping her despite herself.

“I can train and do my part to help at the same time,” she said, lips pursed. “I assure you I won’t get in our way at any point.”

Kasumi should have been used to how little her words impacted him, but it was in a different sort of way from how her schoolmates and peers tended to ignore most of what she said. They didn’t listen because they had already created a picture of what they anticipated she would be--honor student, star athlete, special snowflake--and therefore couldn’t really imagine her outside of those contexts. Akechi, Kasumi felt, almost oddly, was the opposite. Somehow, it felt like he was seeing right through her, and for _that_ reason, he didn’t listen to a word she said.

She shook herself out of her thoughts, and added, “Besides, it’s my dream. I can’t just give up on it, no matter what else is happening.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Kasumi knew an entreaty to emotion and future dreams was the wrong path to take. Akechi’s lip curled in a sneer, his eyes narrowed. 

“Your _dream_?” he asked, one arm out as he gestured to the near-empty sidewalk. “I suppose this singular dream of yours is more important than fixing this whole mess? I knew you were a piece of work, Yoshizawa-san, but you’re truly more self-absorbed and unaware than I’d even first thought.”

Everything about his expression and his words dripped disdain, and while Kasumi wanted to immediately protest, to immediately, with a mood fiercely positive and chipper, correct his assumptions and explain to him that her dream wasn’t usurping her desire to fix the world as it was, she found that for some reason, the words dried up in her throat.

It felt, for a moment, like the world was not quite right in a way Kasumi could not describe. Like for a brief moment, the world flickered, and the happy faces on the couple walking past them morphed into something more twisted, into rictus expressions that had horror and fear lurking beneath them.

Kasumi opened her mouth, and the words that left her lips didn’t feel like her own. “I know you think it’s stupid. I know you think I’m just a silly little girl pursuing something stupid in the midst of something I don’t understand.”

Her own bitterness shocked her, but she couldn’t seem to stop the words from spilling out. 

“If I really am just a weight dragging you and Akira-senpai down, then maybe I shouldn’t be a part of this at all.”

There was silence for a long moment, Kasumi’s head bowed, her eyes squeezed shut. It was strange. It almost felt like there were tears stinging at the backs of her eyes, even though she couldn’t remember the last time she’d cried. She was always the sort to smile through anything… wasn’t she? It was Sumire who had been the crybaby between the two of them.

And then Akechi said, “The Rainbow Bridge is right there, across the way. If you wish to throw yourself off of it now, it’s no concern of mine.” 

The words were dropped into the air so casually. Akechi didn’t say a single one of them hatefully; it was as if he was just remarking on what he felt was obvious. If she felt that way, she could remove herself from his presence right then and there, that was what those words cleanly stated. It was so stunningly cruel that it knocked the breath out of her--and then it was as if the world, once out of focus, shifted back into place with a _click_ , and Kasumi lifted a hand to cover her mouth in horror, her eyes wide.

“I… I am so truly sorry!” Kasumi said in a rush, tone breathless. “I… have no idea what came over me. Of course, I understand that what we’re facing now is most likely the most important thing I’ve ever been a part of.”

She took a deep breath, chin raised, posture poised. Her steady confidence had returned. The self-loathing that had briefly overwhelmed her was gone as if without a trace. It gave her words a peaceful assurance--no matter what Akechi said to her, she, Kasumi, had heard worse and could overcome. That was the sort of person she was. “However, my dreams are important as well. I won’t give up on them either, and nothing you say can change my mind on that, Akechi-san. This is both for me, and for my little sister’s sake.”

Kasumi was expecting more derision in response to that, but instead Akechi stared at her as if she was a particularly fascinating specimen of some sort, his head tilted to one side with a gloved hand at his chin. And ultimately, his only response was a simple, “Huh.”

Kasumi blinked at him. The expression on his face was thoughtful to the extent of almost being calculating, and she thought she heard him murmur a soft “interesting” beneath his breath, or something along those lines. She honestly had no idea what he was thinking. Akechi had always seemed so transparent when she’d known him before. Now, knowing that had all just been another mask, his real self seemed even more inscrutable than anyone she’d met. Either way, it didn’t seem like he had any intentions of snapping at her again, and while his earlier matter-of-fact statement still hurt if she examined it too closely, like poking at a nasty bruise on her skin… Kasumi put it behind her for now. There were more important things that needed addressing.

“Akechi-san, I was actually looking for you,” she said, breaking the heavy silence herself.

He arched an eyebrow at her, but didn’t stop her from continuing, “Would you mind coming with me to a nearby cafe? It’s one I used to go to often. There’s something I’d like to speak with you about.”

She read reluctance in every line of his body, but Akechi surprised her by sighing and waving a limp hand, responding simply, “Fine, if we must. This had better not be a total waste of time, Yoshizawa-san.”

His agreement was enough of a surprise that for a moment, Kasumi just stared at him blankly--but at his exasperated quirk of an eyebrow, she snapped back to herself, smiling at him. “This way then, please, Akechi-san.”

The thought struck her only as she began to walk, remembering her soreness from that morning only just then. Maybe Akechi was suffering from the same thing? Kasumi peered at him surreptitiously as they walked, but either he was excellent at hiding it, or he really wasn’t sore at all, because he strolled forward as if without a single care, posture loose and easy. 

Ugh. It really was only her that was so sore today, wasn’t it?

* * *

It didn’t take long to get to the cafe, and it was easy to find a seat. The decor was different from that stylized, pastel crepe and coffee cafe they’d visited before, but the seating arrangement was similar, and so it was that Kasumi couldn’t help but feel a certain sense of déjà vu as she looked across the table at Akechi, both with steaming mugs in front of them. The third chair at the table was empty, and the lack of Akira’s presence was almost stifling.

Kasumi reached out for her cup, lifting it to her lips to take a sip. Hot chocolate was a bit of an indulgence, but so long as they had dark chocolate, she was always so happy to get it. It may not have been the best thing for her training, but it was warm and soothing, and right now that was what she wanted.

Akechi, across from her, stared at her from over his coffee. She’d noted he took it black back when they had first gone to a cafe together, teasing him over how she had thought he was the sort of person who would like sweets. She no longer thought that. He had told her even then, hadn’t he? That it was all a carefully crafted facade to best appeal to the largest audience of people.

Kasumi wondered how she hadn’t seen it before.

He looked totally different now, and Kasumi wasn’t surprised that nobody stopped them to ask if he was _the_ Goro Akechi. Akechi’s posture was laid back, almost lackadaisical. He was somewhat sprawled back in his chair, his arms crossed and his entire posture closed off and unwelcoming. It was such a change from the Akechi from before, with his straight back and his neatly crossed legs, a smile on his face.

That conversation they’d had about the Phantom Thieves and about her summer competition felt now like it had happened years ago. Kasumi missed those days, and she covered up the brief lapse into sentimentality by taking another sip of her cocoa.

The silence dragged, and Kasumi knew perfectly well that they were going to get nowhere if she didn’t kick things off. Akechi wasn’t pretending any longer to care about her company, so he was only here because she explicitly asked him to. He’d only stay for as long as he felt like staying if she didn’t get to the point. So she squared her shoulders, and set down her cup with a firmer clink than she’d intended.

He looked unimpressed, and she flushed a little, but gamely soldiered on.

“Were you headed towards the Palace, Akechi-san?” she asked.

Akechi looked at her a moment longer, and then he finally reached for his own cup of coffee, straightening a little as well despite himself. It was probably, Kasumi thought ruefully, not because she had asked him a question, but rather so he wouldn’t spill the coffee on himself while he drank it.

“I don’t see how it’s any business of yours,” Akechi sighed in response, lifting his cup to take a sip. Only after he was finished trying the coffee, he continued, “But yes, I was. There are a few things I am still curious about, so I was planning on doing some reconnaissance.”

He paused, and wrinkled his nose at the coffee, apparently displeased. Kasumi wondered what he’d been expecting, exactly.

“That’s… actually why I wanted to speak with you,” she said, leaving her curiosity about his coffee pickiness aside. “There’s still so much about Palaces in general that I don’t understand, and this Palace in particular. I was hoping that I could pick your brain about it.”

Akechi was shaking his head before she had even finished. “I’m not interested. I have things to do, and to be frank, that sounds like a waste of my time. It doesn’t matter to me if you know the ins and outs of a Palace so long as you are able to fight when Akira directs you to do so.”

It could have been insulting to the extreme to be considered nothing but expendable muscle, but in truth, this was a step up already from the day before, when she’d been considered expendable _uselessness_ , Kasumi knew. At least now, Akechi was acknowledging her use in battles against Shadows. She just had to keep convincing him that she had more worth than he was ready to acknowledge yet.

She rested her palms on the table, not yet leaning over it, but nonetheless a sign of her fierce determination. “I’ll be even more helpful if I understand the Palace better, Akechi-san. I’m confident that there’s even more I can bring to the table that I haven’t been able to show you yet.”

Kasumi was proud of how her tone ended up coming out: level, firm, but without raising her voice. But it seemed to do nothing to sway Akechi, who shook his head again, frowning. A thought seemed to strike him.

“Why don’t you ask him instead?”

Kasumi flinched a little despite herself, resisting the urge to check her phone. Akira still hadn’t texted her back, and she knew it; she would have felt her phone buzz. She hadn’t been having any problems with it since January began, so it wasn’t likely that it was a technological issue. No, instead…

Akechi smiled, very suddenly. Kasumi knew him well enough by now to know to distrust that smile.

“My,” he said, smiling still wider. “Does your _dear_ senpai not have the time for you anymore?”

That one stung despite her best intentions. Kasumi was sure that Akira was just very, very busy, but it was absolutely true that she would much rather be asking him these questions instead of Akechi. But her phone remained silent and still in her coat pocket, and she was afraid Akechi was very correct.

She took a deep breath. “Maybe he doesn’t,” she admittedly slowly, though it was still more painful than it should have been to do so. Her friends could have lives outside of her. She was just attached to Akira in particular because he had been such a crutch to her when she needed him most… right? She pressed her lips together.

“But that’s not what we’re talking about right now, Akechi-san.”

Her recovery, at least, seemed to catch his attention, and for once he didn’t interrupt. Instead, he arched an eyebrow at her, almost encouraging her to continue.

So she did. “I understand that you don’t want to waste any time. I won’t waste your time then. If I come with you to the Palace, you can do your reconnaissance, and I’ll ask my questions as we go.”

Akechi wasn’t refusing immediately, which was a good sign, but the way his brows drew together as he contemplated the offer wasn’t. It was time to sweeten the deal, Kasumi felt.

“And I’ll do something for you in return. We can make a deal of it--”

“Don’t.”

Akechi’s response came suddenly and coldly, as impenetrable as a brick wall. It wasn’t a response she’d been expecting at all, and that was plain on her face as she stared at him, lips slightly parted as she gaped.

With an exasperated sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose and moved to stand. “Don’t mistake me for Akira. I have no interest in making any sort of deal with you. I’m not going to get closer to you, and that is as it should be. Your only worth to me is your ability to wield a Persona, which will allow me to get through this Palace more quickly and out of this wretched, fake world.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned on his heel.

“Get it through your head, Yoshizawa-san,” he said over his shoulder sharply, a parting gift. “We are not friends and we never will be.”

And then he was gone, leaving Kasumi seated alone at the table, both of her hands clasped around her hot cocoa for the warm comfort of it more than anything. She sat there until Akechi’s coffee, still mostly full, went totally cold.

* * *

Kasumi was in line in Kichijoji when she received the text. She fished out her phone immediately, nodding a friendly nod to the man running the dumpling shop, and tapped in her security code as she ordered. Three gua bao later (one in hand, two in a bag she kept close), and Kasumi was able to step out of the way and read the text properly.

    **Akira** : If you’re still available, we should go into the Palace this afternoon.

Kasumi read it over once, and then again, thoughtfully taking a bite of her bun. The succinctness of the message didn’t bother her; that was just Akira as he was. By now, she knew that very well. She knew, too, that getting through this Palace was very important to him, so whatever he’d been busy with all day, it must have been even more important than that. For now, she could be satisfied with that, she thought.

So she promptly ate the remainder of the food in her hand in three more sizable bites, and then responded quickly in the affirmative, slipping her phone back into her pocket after. She could ask Akira about what he was so busy with later on, when she met up with him again--if he was troubled by something, she wanted to help, after all. After all of the help he’d given her, it only seemed right that she did her best to return the favor.

With that taken care of, Kasumi dug into the bag she was carrying to grab the next gua bao. She was still hungry, after all; for some reason, breakfast just never seemed like enough anymore. She didn’t think anything of it as she cheerfully devoured it. By the time she made it to the train station, there was no food left, and she tossed the bag away into the trash. There. Now that she’d eaten, she would be less weird about everything, Kasumi thought to herself with a firm nod. No more strange lapses in character that were, without a doubt, just her being unnecessarily irritable due to a lack of food.

She told herself this so firmly she even believed it, and by the time she caught her train, it was as if the morning she’d spent with Akechi was barely a thought in her mind.

Kasumi was even able to smile pleasantly at him as she strolled up to meet him in front of the construction site, and was surprised to find that she even meant the expression.

“Good to see you again, Akechi-san. Are you ready to get to work?”

It was as if their interactions before had just been a bad dream, evaporating now in the brightness of the afternoon sun. Akechi arched an eyebrow at her, expression more bemused than anything at her chipper greeting.

He slowly tilted his head, and said, “You are--”

Whatever he’d been about to say, he was interrupted by Akira jogging up to meet them, face flushed from his hasty trot from the train station to their meeting place, his hands shoved into his pockets even so.

“Sorry I’m late,” he said, dragging in a couple of deep breaths to steady his breathing. Akira caught his breath admirably easily, though--Kasumi briefly wondered what sort of training regimen he stuck to to get an outcome like that--and then he continued, “Are you both ready to go?”

Akechi’s response was unsurprising. “Just hit the button already, if you please, Yoshizawa-san.”

Kasumi fished her phone out promptly, tugging off her glove to properly scroll through her phone for the app. She nodded to herself a little when she found it, and when it opened as seamlessly as it had the day before, she felt even more comforted. At the very least, the situation hadn’t changed, had it?

“All right,” she began. “Are we ready--ah.”

She cut herself off with a soft noise of startled pain; her thumb stung, and when she lifted it up, she’d smeared blood on her phone screen. Kasumi blinked, peering at the cut on her thumb.

“How did that happen…?” she asked herself, bemused. Perhaps she’d cut it when she was getting her food. It was just so odd she hadn’t noticed it until then, but mostly she just hoped she hadn’t gotten any blood on her gloves. A quick and careful swipe of her coat sleeve rid her phone of the blood, and she then looked up to see Akechi and Akira both staring at her.

“... Yoshizawa-san,” Akechi said slowly, still staring at her. “Do you not see the condition your phone is in?”

Kasumi blinked. “Pardon?”

She looked at her phone obediently, but it looked the same as ever to her--whole, unblemished, if occasionally unreliable and unusually bad at being a phone.

“Don’t worry. I wiped the blood off of it, so it’s as good as new.”

She showed them her phone screen, and Akechi’s eyebrows both arched, while Akira’s expression did something complicated that she couldn’t read. Akira opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated for a moment longer, which meant Akechi got there first. “... Never mind it. Please bring us into the Metaverse, Yoshizawa-san.”

She did so, and again the world twisted and morphed as all three of them slipped into the Metaverse. There was a comfort in the way that her Phantom Thief outfit settled into place around her; the mask was light on her face, but still enough of a weight to be a reminder that in the back of her mind, Cendrillon was ready to fight. Kasumi wondered if it felt the same way for Akira; the way that he could call multiple Personas to fight on his behalf was both puzzling and extremely impressive, and she couldn’t help but wonder just how that felt. Was the mask still as comforting for him, even knowing it could form into any sort of Persona? Did that make it even more comforting? There was still so much she didn’t know about this side of him.

Kasumi gently corralled the questions bouncing around her mind to one side. The weird moment with her phone was long forgotten. There was too much to do to focus on those right now. She adjusted her gloves carefully, ran a gloved finger along her mask once as if to try to calm and center herself, to remind herself of where they were, and then she straightened and turned to face the others.

Akira seemed to be doing much the same as her, taking stock of himself and his own preparedness. He nodded to himself quietly, took a deep breath, and opened his mouth--

“So,” Akechi drawled, interrupting Akira at just the right moment, so casually that Kasumi almost, for an uncharitable moment, thought he had to have planned it that way. “You finally decided to join us.”

Akira lifted his chin a little, a challenge in his expression and his body language, but Akechi wasn’t finished.

“Yoshizawa-san and I were left waiting. Was trying to wake up your little friends really so taxing?” Akechi’s tone was still so casual, so unconcerned and unhurried. He may as well have been commenting on Akira’s choice in attire for the day, not… doing whatever it was he was doing. Kasumi wasn’t sure; she’d initially jumped at him even including her, and looked away quickly when Akira glanced at her.

If Akechi was trying to get a rise out of Akira again, this time it seemed he was doomed to be disappointed; Akira was quiet for a long enough moment that Kasumi tensed a little, rising to the balls of her feet in preparation for _something_... and then he shrugged, casual as could be.

“Were both of you really waiting that long?” Akira asked, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “I tried to get here as quickly as I could. Sorry about that.”

He didn’t deny Akechi’s accusations, but Kasumi supposed that he couldn’t, really; if Akira had been trying to wake up his friends out of their odd fantasies today, it was only natural he’d been busy. It made a number of things slot into place neatly in her mind, and she was satisfied with that explanation. Akechi looked a bit more dour, whether because of Akira’s casual response or the lack of explanation, but he didn’t pursue it, to Kasumi’s relief.

Akira gave them both a moment to respond, and when it seemed no more complaints were forthcoming, he nodded. When he straightened his shoulders to speak, Kasumi found that she did the same, almost automatically. “Alright then. It should be pretty quick to get back to the safe room we found yesterday, so that’s where we’ll start. Let’s go.”

And they did. Reaching the safe room was simple work after the previous evening; while the Palace security was still there, Shadows still in their way on their path to the safe room, it was as if they were less able to notice them as they slunk their way to where they had stopped before. To Kasumi, it was all brand new; they danced around the Shadow at the door that had stopped them cold the day before, and slipped in through the door like wisps of smoke, and it never even processed that they were there.

From there, the safe room was easy to reach, though Akira didn’t open the door to it, instead leaning his back against it with his arms crossed as he inspected his companions.

He seemed to be able to read the puzzlement on Kasumi’s face, offering her a faint smile. “It’s cognition.”

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“The reason we’re able to get back to the safe room so easily,” he explained, waving a red-gloved hand vaguely. “It’s all because of cognition.”

Kasumi considered that for a long moment. “Cognition” was a word she’d heard thrown around plenty at this point, but even so, she was still a little confused as to what it was supposed to really cover and mean. Morgana’s explanation back in October had been sparse, and in truth, that felt like it was so long ago now at this point that she could barely remember what he’d said. She lifted a hand to her chin, expression contemplative, but Akechi didn’t have time for her musings.

“Honestly,” he huffed, rolling his eyes. “The concept isn’t particularly difficult. Though I suppose Joker’s explanation, as ever, is too succinct to be useful.”

Akira frowned in response, but Akechi continued to speak and he chose to say nothing. Kasumi, startled that Akechi hadn’t blamed it on her slow uptake, jumped and straightened when he turned his eyes on her.

“Our cognition is a powerful tool in places like this, especially in a liminal space such as a safe room where the Palace ruler does not hold as much power.” He tapped his clawed finger against his arm irritably as he explained. “We believe that it will be easy for us to return to the safe room, and so it is. To an extent, of course, it is easier because we have already mapped out the route and know the way. But that cognition plays a great deal in keeping Shadows unaware of our movements.”

“There’s the public cognition of an infiltration route too,” Akira put in. “In phantom thief literature, an infiltration route is almost always successful--so ours is too.”

Kasumi nodded slowly. She supposed it made sense, but... 

“I had no idea cognition was so powerful,” she said.

The raw laugh Akechi gave in response, a rusty and creaky noise, almost made her jump again. “Oh, you have no idea, Yoshizawa-san,” he said, and she could just make out the jagged grin beneath his helmet.

Akira winced, seeming to know exactly what it was that was making Akechi respond that way. He paused, glancing between her and Akechi, and ultimately seemed to decide to leave it alone--at least for now.

“That’s the basics of it, at least,” he said instead. “If you have any questions about the Palace, you can always ask. But for now, let’s keep going, okay?”

She smiled at him, relaxing a bit as ever at his confidence-inducing tone. “Got it. I’m ready when you are, Senpai!”

Akechi, still grinning that uncanny grin, just gestured for Akira to lead the way with mock-politeness. Akira did so without batting an eye, but Kasumi wasn’t quite so poised; when Akechi turned that gaze and grin on her, she hastily trotted after Akira, and tried to tell herself she was just eager to continue, not that she was still unnerved by someone who was supposed to be a companion.

Kasumi drew level with Akira, fiddling with the frills of one of her sleeves. Akira glanced over at her, and so casually as to be enviable, he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

He was always so genuine about things like this; the fact that he could read that she had something to say even with a mask covering the majority of her face was beyond endearing. Akira had that way about him that could make it seem like he cared more than anyone else in the entire world, and after spending time with him here in the Metaverse, Kasumi felt as though that was still the truth. They wore masks here in the Metaverse, but in a way, wasn’t it like peeling back their masks to see the true essence of what they really were while they were in here?

It eased her worries. She let go of her sleeve, hardly even noticing she’d been playing with it to begin with.

“Senpai… are the other Phantom Thieves all right?” she asked.

Akira stiffened. The change in posture was subtle, but Kasumi was watching him closely enough to catch it. She opened her mouth to take it back. The last thing she wanted to do was distract him with things that were bothering him while he was supposed to be leading them through the Palace--

But then Akira took a deep breath and let it out as a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck and flashing her a rueful smile.

“Thanks for asking after them,” he said, shoving both of his hands into his coat pockets. “They’re still…”

He was silent for a moment, long enough that Kasumi was starting to think that maybe the situation with them was worse than she’d thought. But then Akira shook himself.

“They’re okay.” He stared straight ahead as he walked, lips pressed together tightly. “And they’ll come back to themselves. I’m sure of it.”

Kasumi felt ashamed to realize it had really only just struck her then just what sort of magnitude of stress Akira had to be under. His entire team was brainwashed by this world, and what did he have to rely on as evidence that they would remember themselves in time? He had absolutely nothing but his own personal faith in them.

She wondered if faith was enough for something like this.

She wondered if the Phantom Thieves would be all right--and even if they were, she wondered, too, if Akira would be okay in the process. There were any number of platitudes she could have offered, but Kasumi knew that none of them truly fit a situation like this. Besides, could she really in good faith offer them, not knowing herself if his friends would ever come back to themselves?

Kasumi drew in a breath, and changed tack entirely. “We weren’t even waiting very long outside of the Palace,” she confided to him in a stage whisper, ignoring the way that Akechi sighed in aggravation behind them. 

Akira flashed her a grin in return, and mimicked her tone. “Some people are just _so_ dramatic.”

“Are you both _finished_?” Akechi snapped, and then he stalked ahead of them irritably, and Akira winked at Kasumi. Point proven, she supposed that wink said, and she covered her own bright smile with a gloved hand as she trotted after Akechi.

Maybe… this was another reason why she was here. Maybe like this, she could be of use to her senpai, who had always been there for her, even when nobody else was. If she could keep him smiling, keep him going, and be the support he’d always been for her, then she would be able to finally start properly repaying him for everything. She smiled a little to herself, comforted by that thought.

“Senpai, I--”

Before she could finish, Akira moved, sudden and without warning. He pressed himself behind one of the sterile white couches that lined the hall, and Kasumi followed quickly and almost instinctively, shutting her mouth sharply. Akechi chose to tuck himself behind the plant across the way instead.

The Shadow strolled towards them, inspecting a clipboard with its sightless eyes. One step, two… and it was close enough. Akira sprang into action; Kasumi blinked and he was there, ripping the mask off of the Shadow’s face and springing back to take up a ready battle stance. Kasumi stood beside him, blade up and ready, and she could practically feel Akechi’s eagerness for the fight.

Perhaps this time, now that they’d had some practice, she thought, they would be able to handle this fight as a team. Perhaps now that they’ve started to understand each other better--now that _she’d_ started to understand the other two better, they would be able to blaze through this fight with ease.

She thought very wrong.

There was only one Shadows that burst into being from Akira’s ambush, and Kasumi lifted her blade, feeling confidence surge through her. They outnumbered the Shadow, and between the three of them? They absolutely had the strength and ability to take this Shadow out. The Shadow even looked absolutely ridiculous, rainbow colored and hardly clothed. She wanted to take it out and continue as quickly as possible, and it seemed she wasn’t the only one.

“The insolence of this creature,” Akechi snarled, reaching immediately for his mask. “Get out of our way!”

Loki surged into being behind Akechi, flinging red-edged darkness at their enemy. It enveloped the Shadow, and he scoffed, making a show of dusting off his clawed hands. Had it truly been that easy? She knew Akechi was strong, but he had made that seem as though it was effortless. In the corner of her eye, Akira looked tense still, but that only relaxed her all the more. He was ready, no matter what, even if reinforcements arrived.

Kasumi lowered her blade, a moment too soon, a moment before the Shadow burst straight out of the lingering shadowy flames of the Eigaon, and then she was reacting immediately, before she could even begin to think about it.

She dove.

The crackling energy of the Ziodyne that had been aimed at Akechi slammed directly into her, and Kasumi, already off-balance, had no hope of catching herself before the force behind the attack flung her backwards. Kasumi, still wincing in pain, bit her lip; if she could just turn herself around, she’d be able to land on her feet. One mid-air twist, a tumble, and she could pop back up and be prepared to fight the creature, she thought, ignoring how her limbs still screamed in protest from the sharp pain of the spell. She could do this. She, Kasumi, could do this, she just needed a bit of space--

Kasumi ran into a body. Not expecting the sudden resistance, all of her plans went out the window as she went sprawling, Akechi knocked clean off his feet as well. She could tell it was him already--not because of any romantic notions of familiarity with his voice or his body, but because she slammed the back of her head against the sharp curve of his helmet. A yelp escaped her as they both came crashing down.

Kasumi was slow to come back to herself, a gloved hand coming to rest against her head, whining softly at even that soft touch. Ow… was she bleeding? Had the sharpness of his helmet really pierced the skin?

“Yo...shizawa-san…” Akechi wheezed out beneath her, snapping her back to the present. “If… you wouldn’t mind _moving_ \--”

Oh. Right. Her landing had been anything but soft thanks to Akechi’s Phantom Thief outfit, but it had been a landing of some sort nonetheless. She winced.

“R-right…! I’m--My apologies, Akechi-san, I’ll--!”

Despite her words, though, Kasumi found that her limbs protested the movement, even something as small as rolling off of him. Trying to move them only increased the strange mixture of numbness and a tingling at the tips of her fingers, and her lips parted in horror as it sunk in. No, it couldn’t be--she couldn’t be…

Akechi waited only a moment more, and then scoffed. “Paralysis, is it?” He sounded less winded already, and then in one quick movement, he sat up, taking Kasumi with him.

_Paralysis_. It was everything she feared. Something about that movement, something about her landing had left her unable to move. What about her gymnastics career? What about her dream--the dream she was carrying forward for herself and for her sister?

Akechi must have seen at least some of the panic in her gaze, because he simply arched an eyebrow. His arms scooped her up beneath her legs and her back as if she was a princess.

“Paralysis, Yoshizawa-san, of the temporary variety. Likely because of that Ziodyne.” He rolled his eyes, as if exasperated by even having to explain such simple concepts, and then dumped her on the ground to his side so he could stand up properly without her. “The Ziodyne that you jumped in front of for no apparent reason.”

Kasumi protested immediately, even sprawled on the ground and unable to do much more than lift her head. “It wasn’t for no reason, Akechi-san! It looked like you were in danger. The Shadow--”

“Insulting,” Akechi interrupted her, arching an eyebrow at her. His lips pressed together, and he looked like he wanted to say more, but then came the slightly strained voice of their leader. He flipped out of the way of another oncoming attack, ducked yet another, and took the Shadow swinging its fist at him on his own knife, holding it back.

“If you’re both okay,” he said, almost comically bland despite the tension in his voice, “a little help would be appreciated.”

Akechi shot her one last unimpressed look, and then he turned decisively on his heel, striding towards the Shadow and Akira. Kasumi spent the remainder of the fight struggling to get up. Her limbs were refusing to obey her the way she wanted to every time she tried to push herself to her hands and knees, and for some reason, even though she had been so in control of her body for so long, there was something hauntingly familiar about the sensation of it.

She wasn’t able to get up until Akira, with the Shadow defeated, trotted back to her side, crouching next to her and lifting a gloved hand to his mask to call one of his myriads of Personas. It was the one all covered in bandages and with a dagger in its hand that appeared to heal her of the paralysis. Feeling suffused back into her limbs. Kasumi breathed out a soft sigh of relief, rolling neatly to her feet as soon as she could.

“Are you all right?” Akira asked, slowly standing as well, brow furrowed in clear concern.

“Of course, Senpai!” Kasumi responded, tucking her hands behind her back so the frilly sleeves of her outfit wouldn’t betray how she trembled. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

Akira looked at her for a moment longer, and Kasumi slapped on the best smile she could muster, before it slowly sunk in that he might have actually been looking for a determined expression instead. Belatedly, she shifted her smile into the fiercest and most determined scowl she could come up with instead, and Akira snorted, covering his mouth with a hand.

“Alright,” he finally said, and it was clear then that he was stifling laughter. Kasumi flushed a little, but chose not to point it out. “That was a bit of a rougher fight than it should’ve been, but we made it through. Next time will go better.”

There was something soothing about his words, simple as they were; Kasumi nodded firmly, taking in a deep breath to slowly steady herself. It was just like her many competitions. Making a mistake on the floor was devastating, of course, but even so it was important to pick herself and keep going, and make the best of the situation as it was. Otherwise, why was she even there? The same applied here; she came along because she wanted to be here, and going back on that would be betraying herself.

“Right,” she breathed out softly, resting a hand on her chest. She took another deep breath in, her eyes closed, and one more out, and felt all of the tension slowly seep out of her limbs.

Akechi’s voice was deceptively soft. “Are you finished licking each other’s wounds?”

Even so, Kasumi jumped, and wryly had to revise her previous thought. Not _all_ tension had left, it seemed.

“Not quite,” Akira said without missing a beat, arching an eyebrow at Akechi. “Did you want to join us?”

Akechi scoffed, crossing his arms. “Considering my only ‘wounds’ are due to her,” he said, jerking his chin at Kasumi, who straightened further automatically, “I think I’ll have to pass.”

Kasumi frowned, lips pursing. She had only been trying to help, after all, and Akechi hadn’t looked at all ready to get out of the way of that Shadow’s attack at the time. Before she could wilt completely, Akira crossed his arms and butted in.

“She jumped in the way of that Ziodyne for you, and that’s all you have to say about it?” Akira didn’t sound aggressive; if anything, he sounded frank and tired in equal parts, and Kasumi wondered just how long Akechi and Akira had truly known each other, and just how closely. It didn’t seem as though Akechi ever truly surprised Akira, just that his behavior occasionally wore him out.

“Certainly,” Akechi said stiffly, crossing his arms. “I don’t recall _asking_ for her help. If anything, it is insulting she thought I needed help.”

‘She’, ‘her’, over and over, Kasumi was relegated to standing here while Akechi and Akira spoke about her as if she wasn’t there. To his credit, Akira always seemed discomfited by it, flashing her apologetic looks whenever Akechi started this. But still…

“You could have moved out of the way yourself.”

The silence that followed was nearly deafening, and it took Kasumi a moment to realize that the voice that hissed those words out was her own. Slowly, she lifted a hand to her head, brow furrowing. It wasn’t that she was wrong, not exactly, but she wasn’t sure where it came from--it wasn’t _like her_ to point out others’ shortcomings. She was the one who smiled and laughed things off and moved forward to the future, positive and chipper.

Kasumi tugged her hand down from her head, and on her fingertips glistened some blood. Right… that landing had broken the skin.

She looked up again. Akechi and Akira were both staring at her, Akira concerned and Akechi… she couldn’t read the expression on Akechi’s face, odd as it was. He didn’t look angry, and that puzzled her even more; somehow, she could never seem to get a read on him. Whenever she thought he would react one way, he always managed to prove her wrong.

“Well,” Akechi finally said, breaking the lingering pause. “If I had been able to move out of the way, I would have done so, _Yoshizawa-san_.”

Something about the way he said her name made her uneasy, but she couldn’t pinpoint why--and she didn’t have any longer to think about it before Akira interjected, sighing and rubbing the back of his neck.

“Come on, guys. If you’re both okay, we should keep going instead of standing around here.”

Akechi flicked his gaze towards Akira and back at Kasumi, before he just offered up an exaggerated shrug. “You sound tired, Joker.” His voice dripped with faux-sympathy, though it didn’t seem to get to Akira much. “Is handling the new kid on top of a new Palace getting to you?”

“You’re causing half the problems, Akechi,” Akira replied dryly. His hand was in his pocket though as he started to walk, a casual slant to both his words and his shoulder. Automatically, both Kasumi and Akechi fell in line.

“So you agree that Yoshizawa-san is causing half the problems here as well,” Akechi began. He wasn’t wearing much of a smile, but the tone reminded Kasumi of their coffee shop day, so many months ago. Back then, it’d seemed friendly. Now, in this light, now that she knew him better, it seemed unimpressed and provocative. Maybe this was how he entertained himself.

Kasumi wondered how she’d been so blind back then. Akechi didn’t seem inclined to let this go, and she sighed silently to herself. She would just have to put up with it until the next time the subject changed, and--

“I understand that with so many of us here, it might be hard to count,” Akira said, interrupting her thoughts with a smirk that was honestly a little teasing. “But there are three of us here. Half the problems means you’re causing the majority between the three of us, actually.”

It was the most like himself Kasumi had heard Akira sound in both of their admittedly short Palace dives, and she found herself smiling a little despite herself. Akechi seemed to be thinking much along the same lines, startlingly, or so she thought; he blinked at Akira, seemed to consider snapping back, and either decided it wasn’t worth the effort or that he just didn’t want to.

Instead, he said, “Math, Joker? I thought that was your worst subject in school.”

Akira’s eyes narrowed at Akechi immediately and dangerously, but unlike the fight in the safe room, there was no tension in the air. This was just...the way the two of them interacted, Kasumi slowly realized, looking back and forth between both of them as they spoke.

“What, were you looking at my scores?” A snort. “You don’t even go to Shujin. Way to sound like a stalker.”

“I don’t have to stalk you to know you’re not the sort to be good with numbers.”

“That’s some jumping to conclusions, _Detective-san_. I might surprise you.”

It was easy to fall into an easy pace with the two of them, listening to them snipe at each other without any heat behind the insults and bickering. Kasumi let the words wash over her, and focused on their path ahead, and was surprised to find that she felt comfortable in her skin--a rarity, as of late--in this moment.

Gingerly, she lifted a hand to her head again, to the cut that had come of hitting her head against Akechi’s sharp edges, and decided in that moment she would do better to be the optimistic person she knew she was.

* * *

In Palaces, Kasumi was quickly realizing, time seemed entirely fake.

She could not truthfully say if it had been one hour or many, many hours, not with how the minimalist hallways all blended together, providing absolutely no way to differentiate between them, and no relief from the blinding whiteness of the Palace’s backdrop.

They had made progress, that was undeniable. Their surroundings had changed from pathways lined with office offices and big foyers with research to endless, business-like hallways, all white ceilings and white floors. Kasumi had never thought that she would miss the occasional potted plant that had lined the halls, but it turned out that endless halls with nothing in them at all made even that absence too stark.

Even worse, slowly but surely, each of the trio was starting to realize that what they’d found themselves in what was clearly a maze. Regardless of how many doors they stepped through, only to find themselves mystifyingly at the beginning again, or how many dead end hallways they experienced, they carried on with grim determination. They progressed without bringing it up, each of them focused on that thin, singular hope that they would somehow find the exit to the maze quickly and easily, without getting endlessly lost on side paths and dead ends. 

Naturally, it could never be that easy.

Akira cocked his head to one side, expression contemplative, before he huffed out a breath. “Arsene says we’ve definitely been here before.”

“Chatty, isn’t he?” Akechi commented at nobody in particular, but he turned away from that path without any argument.

Akira tucked his hands into his coat pocket, looking at Akechi curiously. “Loki doesn’t have anything to say?”

“Hardly,” the faux-detective responded, the sour look on his face not inviting further discussion. That had never deterred Akira before, and it didn’t really deter him now; he opened his mouth to pursue the conversation, an eyebrow arched.

Kasumi interrupted him. “Your Personas talk to you?” she asked, her own brow furrowed in utter bemusement. Both young men turned to look at her then, Akechi’s eyebrow arched in an incredulous expression that was quickly becoming familiar and Akira’s lips parted slightly in mild surprise. The impact of both of them staring at her in that way was immediate; Kasumi regretted the question the moment they processed it, glancing away to avoid their gazes.

“Never mind,” she said hastily, waving a hand. “We should keep going. I don’t want to waste too much more of our time.”

The two young men exchanged a glance at that, before Akira just shrugged a little.

“Alright,” he said agreeably, to both Kasumi and Akechi’s surprise. Then he turned on his heel and started to stroll down the hallway, his posture entirely casual.

“Strange for him not to meddle,” Akechi muttered, more to himself than Kasumi, though she was inclined to agree. For the months she’d known Akira, he had never passed up an opportunity to pry into her affairs when he thought he could help her through a problem. Akechi’s eyes flicked to Kasumi, before he shrugged a little himself.

“Regardless, whether you can speak with your Persona isn’t my concern,” he said, and with that he followed Akira.

Kasumi, brow furrowed, trotted after both of them. Didn’t that mean that they both really _could_ speak with their Personas? Akira clearly could, if his off-handed statement was to be believed, but Akechi too?

Akira flashed her a small smile when she caught up, and only when they were both walking with him did he say, “Who said I was done meddling?”

Akechi just frowned at him, thoroughly guiltless about being overheard, though Kasumi had the good grace to dip her head sheepishly, even though the words hadn’t even been her own.

“You don’t have to look like that, Kasumi,” he continued, his stroll still absolutely casual. “It’s not anything to be ashamed of. I was just curious, that’s all. You really can’t hear Cendrillon?”

Now that he’d asked her outright, there was really no avoiding the question. Kasumi thought _hard_ , reaching out for that familiar presence in her mind. Cendrillon reached back with crystalline fingers in her mind, and Kasumi knew that if she called upon her, she would be there by her side immediately, battle-ready.

But all she heard was static, and perhaps beneath, the faintest hint of a whisper. Slowly, she shook her head, and Akira simply hummed a thoughtful, nonchalant noise. On Akechi’s face, when she flicked her gaze towards him, Kasumi thought she saw thoughtful curiosity.

“I haven’t heard her since she first appeared,” Kasumi admitted, pressing a hand to the back of her head sheepishly. Dried blood from their earlier bout flaked off onto her red gloves, which she didn’t notice. “I didn’t know Personas spoke outside of their awakenings at all.”

“Wellll…” Akira said, drawing the syllables out while he thought about what he wanted to say. “Mine do. Akechi’s too, even though he’s being purposefully cagey about it.”

Akechi huffed at that analysis, but didn’t bother to confirm or deny, which Kasumi took as tacit confirmation in and of itself.

“But that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with Cendrillon either,” he continued. “She seems to respond to you fine in battle, so you two are at least on the same wavelength, right?”

Kasumi nodded slowly at that, though she was unconvinced. Why was _she_ the only one who was different? If even Akechi, who did not really seem like the sort to sit and have a casual chat with his honestly rather frightening looking Persona could speak with him, why couldn’t she hear Cendrillon?

And if Akira was right, and nothing was wrong with Cendrillon, then didn’t that mean that instead, something was wrong with _Kasumi_?

Akira inspected her thoughtfully, and Kasumi thought that her uncertainty must have shown on her face, because he opened his mouth again to speak.

“Hey, Joker.” Akechi’s voice interrupted them, and Akira pressed his lips together, for a moment disgruntled, before he turned his attention to their third companion. “It’s another dead end.”

Kasumi blinked, lifting her chin to look for herself, and sure enough, the hallway ended in an abrupt blank white wall. There were no doors and Kasumi couldn’t see any forward path for them to take. Akira inspected the dead end for himself for long enough that Kasumi was starting to shift with slight uncertainty, when he finally sighed and nodded.

“Alright,” he said, tone shockingly even and level for how long they’d been wandering this section of the Palace. “We’ll turn back again.”

“Perhaps we should take a break, before we run in circles chasing our tails some more.” The shockingly reasonable suggestion came from Akechi, and Kasumi stared at him as if his stripes had suddenly turned neon green. He caught her at it and flashed her an entirely dry look.

“I am in a hurry, yes, but I’m not entirely incapable of being unreasonable,” he told her, tone almost bland. “Especially if it’s just going to waste more time for us to continue. Well, Joker?”

He turned his attention from her to Akira without missing a beat, leaving Kasumi wishing she could sink into the floor. Every single time, it felt as though she managed to read Akechi entirely wrong. Would she ever have a decent grasp on who he was now?

“Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Akira said simply, tucking his hands back into his pockets with a soft sigh. “We’re only going in circles right now. Let’s head back to the last safe room. It’d be better to tackle a place like this with a plan.”

Backtracking almost felt more demoralizing than wandering the endless pathways of the maze, but if nothing else, there weren’t likely to be any Shadows in places they’d already defeated them. It gave Kasumi the confidence to focus less on their surroundings and more on what they’d been talking about before. Maybe she couldn’t speak with Cendrillon because she hadn’t been trying hard enough? After all, she had only just learned that it _was_ possible to speak with a Persona. The answer, to her, had always been to just work harder. Practice harder, train harder, try harder, and things would fall into place, wouldn’t they? So trusting that Akira and Akechi would both alert her if anything dangerous were to appear, Kasumi closed her eyes for a moment, brow furrowing as she reached out to her Persona.

Cendrillon was there, of course, just as she always was, stirring at Kasumi’s call with soundless acknowledgement.

But would she respond if Kasumi were to speak with her properly? There was no way to know but to try, right…? Kasumi took a deep breath, and, feeling a little foolish but determined nonetheless, she thought as hard as she could towards her Persona, _Can you hear me, Cendrillon?_

Again, that soundless acknowledgement. Her brow furrowed.

_Please,_ she thought fiercely. _Answer me. Can you speak? You can understand me, so please… won’t you speak to me?_

She felt Cendrillon stir in her mind more, and a flicker of what she thought might have been interest. Kasumi held her breath, eyes tightly squeezed shut as she focused.

But… Cendrillon did not speak. Or, rather, she did speak, but Kasumi did not understand her. There was again that feeling of static, of whispers that were too garbled and soft for her to understand no matter how she strained her ears. Her heart sinking, Kasumi began to process what was really blocking them from speaking. Just as she’d thought; it wasn’t Cendrillon who was the problem. It was Kasumi herself who couldn’t speak to her Persona for some reason.

She ran into Akira’s back and stumbled back with a start, rubbing her nose.

“Kasumi…?” he asked, frowning a little in clear concern as he reached out to steady her.

Kasumi took a moment, glancing around quickly to place where they were. They’d made it back to the safe room already. Akechi stood by the door, his arms crossed and a familiar expression of lowkey exasperation on his face as he looked at her.

“Um,” she said.

“Were you paying even an iota of attention to where you were going?” Akechi said with an aggravated sigh, one clawed finger tapping at his arm impatiently.

“That’s…” Kasumi glanced between the two of them, and then she hung her head and sighed and admitted entirely honestly, “I was trying to speak with Cendrillon, so… no, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going. I was sure that you and Akira-senpai would stop me if necessary.”

Her sincerity seemed to take Akechi off-guard; he blinked at her, opened his mouth, and closed it again, looking both nonplussed and disgruntled. Akira, for his part, was grinning when she peeked over at him, and Kasumi was startled to realize, small as the expression was, it was the first grin she’d seen from him in who knew how long. Even at their meet-up for the first of the year, he’d seemed to have something on his mind. Had it really been last year…?

Either way, he was grinning now, and it was a relief to see. Despite her sheepishness, Kasumi couldn’t help but smile back.

“That’s right, Akechi,” Akira said, tone light. “Kasumi trusts us to make sure she’s not going to run into walls or Shadows.”

Akechi’s expression somehow just grew even more sour at that, much to Kasumi’s bemusement. Was it a bad thing to be trusted…? She was a little embarrassed to have it put so plainly, but it was the truth; she wasn’t about to disagree.

“What’s with that face?” Akira continued, a hand propped on his hip. “Shouldn’t you be happy? Someone else finally trusts you.”

Finally, Akechi just huffed out an aggravated breath, turning towards the Safe Room. “If you idiots are finished standing around, we came here for a reason.”

Kasumi blinked as Akechi disappeared inside, before she looked over at Akira quizzically. She had no idea why being trusted could put Akechi in such a bad mood, and it didn’t seem as though Akira was about to explain it to her. He was still smiling, though, and when he met her eyes, he just flashed her a wink before he also stepped forward to disappear into the Safe Room.

That didn’t answer any of her questions, but it wasn’t something Kasumi really realized into later; she was far too distracted by how even that simple gesture from Akira set her heart aflutter and left her smiling. She followed both of them into the small room, that smile remaining strong on her face, and all thoughts of Cendrillon’s muffled words for the moment forgotten. Maybe there was a foundation to build on after all, here with these two. 

She would just have to tend to it for herself, and see what she could grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all of the lovely comments and support and for reading in the first place! ♥


	3. 1/4

Kasumi dug through the kitchen cabinets after breakfast to snag a snack before heading out for the day, humming cheerfully under her breath. She hadn’t woken up as sore that morning, and she was feeling pretty chipper about her quick progress as a Persona user. From the doorway, her father watched her with a slight frown.

“Was breakfast not enough food…?” he asked, arms crossed in such a way that they almost seemed to be wrapped around him.

Kasumi turned a bright smile on him. “Oh, no, breakfast was great! I just think I’ll be out for awhile again today, so I wanted to make sure I had a snack to keep my strength up!”

He didn’t smile back, something that caused Kasumi’s own smile to flicker a little. Had her father always had such deep lines in her face? He looked tired lately, and she wondered why. It was true that the loss of her sister had hit them both hard, but Kasumi had thought that together, they’d recovered.

It was strange, that she’d never noticed how tired he’d looked before.

“... Should I stay home?” she found herself asking, voice tentative.

He shook his head quickly, finally offering her a slow, slightly strained smile. “No… no, you should go do what you had planned today. I’ll be waiting for you at home, --re--”

Kasumi blinked. Something had seemed off there, just for a moment… but her father was still watching her, so she shook it off with a faint smile of her own. “Okay! I promise to be home at a decent hour.”

With that, and with her father’s accepting nod, she shoved a few protein bars into her coat pockets and hustled out the door. She didn’t actually have anywhere to be that quickly, but something about the atmosphere in the kitchen had begun to feel stifling, and Kasumi dragged in a few deep breaths of the crisp January air and tried to convince herself she wasn’t running away.

“I’m stronger now,” she whispered to herself, watching her breath crystalize in the air. “For me, and for Sumire… I’m stronger.”

Then her phone buzzed, and Kasumi nearly jumped out of her own skin. She fished it out, peering at the screen curiously. A message from Akira flashed back at her, something that made her eyes widen.

    **Akira:** Sounds like a plan. Why don’t we meet up at the bookstore in Shibuya?

She blinked. Kasumi had sent another message Akira’s way that morning, letting him know that she would be around if he wanted to spend some time together, but after how the week had been going, she honestly hadn’t expected a response until much later. But she was quite excited to be wrong, and Kasumi brightened as she texted out a hastily agreeable response. Despite everything that was happening, perhaps today would be able to feel a bit more like old times, before everything had gone entirely insane.

Kasumi paused in the middle of the sidewalk, phone still in hand, and blinked. “Did he say the bookstore…?”

A second glance at the message revealed that Akira had indeed said to meet at a bookstore, and while it was a pretty strange place for them to meet--it wasn’t like either of them could uphold their end of their bargain there--Kasumi was too relieved to be able to have a day to speak with Akira after everything to concern herself with it too terribly much. She had so many questions to ask, she wasn’t even sure where to begin, and on the train ride over to Shibuya, Kasumi spent some time trying to get her thoughts in order.

What should she ask about first? Akira’s friends? Personas? Palaces? Shadows? Or perhaps… Akechi, who she still didn’t understand at all, even despite her best efforts. If she tried to figure out too much all at once, it was bound to get muddled. She was too straightforward for winding, complicated thoughts; if she tried to ask about too many things, she was sure to miss something important. That meant she had to try to focus, somehow, on just a few important things. By the time the train arrived in Shibuya properly, Kasumi was at least determined to learn about Akechi and to check up on how Akira was doing with his friends in the state they were in. Those two goals seemed manageable, and the rest… well, the rest she could learn as she went.

Kasumi certainly was not running away from the fact that she couldn’t speak with Cendrillon. That was a ridiculous thought, one she shied away from immediately as she walked with determined purpose. She was just focused on her priorities, that was all. That was definitely all. When Kasumi repeated it enough, she even began to believe it.

Shibuya was busy even at the quietest of times, and the first week of January certainly did not count as _quiet_. She dodged pedestrians with quiet, innate grace, and despite the almost claustrophobic nature of the task, it made her smile a little as well. After the previous night’s Palace run, she had been feeling klutzy on her feet; just remembering the way that she’d been flung into Akechi still made her wince. But here on her own two feet, weaving through the crowd, she felt both grounded and competent again.

At least, she did until a man abruptly changed directions without warning, bumping into her and knocking her right off balance.

Kasumi recovered quickly, at least, turning to apologize to the man. Something about his appearance brought her up short, though, and she paused as she tried to remember where she’d seen him before. He had a nondescript face, and he was much too old to be a classmate. Where would she have seen someone like this…?

It struck her suddenly, and the realization made her freeze in place. This man was the man who had been trying to pick her up in the park all of those months ago, the man who Akira had intervened against at the last moment. Out of the tens of thousands of people in this prefecture, _this_ was the man she had to bump into again?

He blinked at her.

Kasumi shifted, making sure that her stance was ready and light on her feet. She wasn’t the same girl she had been back when she’d first encountered this man. Now she was tougher, and stronger, and fiercer. She wasn’t even an honor student anymore, she thought ruefully to herself. There was no reason for her to be any sort of longsufferingly kind girl any longer. If he bothered her, she would be able to get away just fine, without any interventions from anyone else, that was something she was certain of.

The man blinked at her again, and said, “I’m so sorry, miss. I didn’t mean to bump into you. I didn’t bother or hurt you, did I?”

Kasumi, thrown entirely off-balance again, responded on automatic. “You… were worried about that?”

“Of course!” the man replied, looking sincerely injured as he rubbed the back of his head. “I would hate to hurt someone else, even by accident.”

Kasumi stared at him incredulously. This… this was absolutely the same man. She remembered that afternoon as if it had been seared into her memory. But his actions, his emotions, his words… they were all wrong.

“You still don’t believe me…?” he asked, almost plaintively. “Maybe you met me before, but I’ve had a change of heart. I realized that what I was doing was wrong, and now I’m so much happier for it! I’m glad I was able to find happiness.”

Kasumi shifted in place uncomfortably. “What made you change?” she finally asked, her phone clutched to her chest.

He smiled at her, expression wide and a little off, and said, “I just woke up like this. I realized the path to happiness was changing who I was, so I did. And now I’m so, so much happier.”

There was something about his gaze that was unnerving. His smile, too, felt wrong to her, and Kasumi couldn’t even begin to comprehend his words. They should have been optimistic, but instead...

“What… happened to you…?” Kasumi asked, unable to stop herself, the horrified words slipping from her lips.

The man stared at her uncomprehendingly, a large grin still pasted on his face, as he said, “I found nirvana. I’m glad I’m not the person I used to be. Now I can be _happy_.”

He paused, glancing at his watch, face still stretched into a grin, before he shook his head. “Sorry, I have to go. I hope you, too, find happiness soon, miss.”

And with those parting words, he was gone, strolling along with the crowd. Kasumi watched him go until she couldn’t see him any longer, and then she dragged in a shuddering breath, as if coming back to herself quite suddenly. She should have been happy he was no longer the creepy, horrible person he’d been before. It wasn’t as if there was any love lost between the two of them by any means. But as she began to walk through the crowd again, towards the bookstore on Central Street, Kasumi knew that that blank, widely stretched grin on his face would stick with her for a long time to come. Something about his sudden change just felt _wrong_.

She focused on making her way to the bookstore, eyes downcast and expression tense.

When she stepped inside, Akira took one look at her and knew something was wrong. “Let’s get out of the way,” he suggested quietly, leading her over towards one of the lesser inspected bookshelves towards the back of the store. She followed obediently, her eyes sliding over the book titles of the shelves they stopped by without really processing them.

“What’s wrong, Kasumi?”

She really should have expected that that would have been Akira’s first question. He’d always been caring that way, even when they’d barely known each other. Akira had been the first person at Shujin to reach out a hand and ask her if she was doing okay, even when not a single one of her classmates seemed to care. Spending time with Akira in the Metaverse had revealed another side to him as well, just as it had revealed another side to Akechi. But unlike with Akechi, Akira had never made her feel as though what she already knew of him was wrong.

It would probably be okay to confide in him now, wouldn’t it…?

But at the same time, she thought of his friends, and the fact that they weren’t themselves right now, and of the man’s grotesquely misshapen smile on his face, and wondered if the cause wasn’t one and the same after all. She couldn’t throw that back into Akira’s face, could she?

Kasumi looked up at him, and though he smiled at her, she thought he looked tired, more tired than she’d ever seen him, even at the lowest points of the Phantom Thieves, and she made her decision. She was strong enough to stand on her own now. Akira had carried far more than his fair share of burdens this year.

“It’s nothing important,” she said with the brightest smile she could manage. “I thought I saw someone I recognized, but it turned out I was wrong.”

Akira tilted his head slightly, blinking. He didn’t look particularly convinced, so Kasumi hurried onwards.

“Why did you want to meet in the library, Senpai?” she asked, briefly forgetting the entire list of topics she had wanted to discuss with him in her haste to change the subject.

She wasn’t sure if he believed her or not still, but he didn’t press the point, at least. Instead, he rolled with her subject change, pressing his glasses up as he smiled at her. “It’s about your Persona.”

“Cendrillon…?” she asked, head tilting and her eyes widening in sincere surprise. “What did you want to talk about in regards to her?”

“Well…” The way Akira shifted in place while he considered his words was charming, Kasumi thought, before she immediately shoved that thought deep, deep in a corner of her mind in startled surprise. “How much do you know about her?”

That surprised Kasumi as well; she hesitated a moment, before she responded slowly, “You mean… about her story?”

At Akira’s gently encouraging nod, Kasumi continued. “Cendrillon… she’s from that fairy tale. The one about a young woman with wicked step-sisters who force her to work and live as their slave. But she goes to the ball anyway, and then she meets her prince and is swept away into a better life.”

Kasumi knew the theory that their Personas were supposed to be _them_ \--a reflection of them, and their inner selves. But if she was entirely honest with herself, she didn’t see it. Akira had Arsène, the most renowned gentleman thief. Akechi had Loki, who… well, admittedly, she didn’t know much about him, but he was some sort of trickster god as far as she understood it, so that at least fit his ever-changing nature.

But Cendrillon?

She was a helpless damsel in a children’s fairy tale, right? It was true that her Persona, at least, was beautiful, and incredibly strong in battle. But if Kasumi was honest, she wasn’t sure that Cendrillon was how she wanted to be represented to the world.

For his part, Akira looked thoughtful at her response. “Yeah, that’s pretty much accurate from first glance,” he said slowly, before he turned to the shelves. It was only then that Kasumi, looking over his shoulder, realized they were in the fairy tale and mythology section of the bookstore. “Cendrillon was a bit of a new one for me. The other Phantom Thieves all have classic rebellious figures, and Cendrillon’s kind of different from that.”

“Oh,” she replied, blinking slowly. “Is that...a bad thing?”

“No, of course not.” Akira’s response came so easily and naturally that it soothed that worry before it could even begin to take root in her mind. “It just made me curious, so I did some research. If you think about it, Cendrillon kind of represents a different sort of rebellion.”

He had her attention now; Akira’s brow was furrowed as he scanned the titles on the shelf, finger hovering right over the spines as he went down the row of books.

“It’s kind of amazing, really, when you start looking into it. There’s a version of Cendrillon for almost every culture out there. That means her story and character resonate for just about everyone, right? Ah.”

He paused, finally tugging a book from the shelf. The paperback looked familiar to Kasumi, but it was only when he handed it over that it clicked. She accepted it quietly, inspecting the cover of a familiar collection of old tales and stories.

“Even we have one, right?” Akira asked with a shrug. “It’s probably been awhile since you read it or anything like it, but isn’t _Sumiyoshi Monogatari_ basically the same thing?”

“That’s right…” Kasumi murmured, brow furrowed as she struggled to recall the old story. “It _was_ similar, wasn’t it? It even had the wicked step-sisters who tried to stop her from finding her happiness. Sumiyoshi-style stories… it’s been ages since I heard that.”

Sumiyoshi… She trailed a finger along the spine of the book, her brow furrowing. Before she could stop herself, she found herself murmuring, “Sumiyoshi… Sumi...re?”

Why was she thinking about her sister _now_ , when she was dwelling on her Persona and her other self? Sumire most certainly hadn’t been a wicked step-sister, so it felt entirely inappropriate; Kasumi shook her head vigorously, straightening abruptly and tucking the book beneath her arm.

“S...sorry, Senpai! I was a little lost in my own thoughts, I suppose. But I’ll take this with me to read again; maybe it’ll help me figure Cendrillon out for myself!”

Akira still looked as concerned, if not more so after her hasty words. “Are you sure you’re doing okay?”

Finally, there was that question. It was the question Kasumi had been avoiding since this whole thing started, for the very simple reason that she didn’t know the answer. She thought about the man on the street and his uncomfortable grin, and the exhausted pain on her father’s face that she had never really noticed before, and the thought of all of the Phantom Thieves who had saved the world now brainwashed and unable to do a thing. Instead, it was Akira with the weight of the world on his shoulders and Akechi, with a sharp sneer and even sharper edges, and _her_. Akira must have seen something in her face, because he didn’t wait for her response. Instead, he gently reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder and nudged her towards one of the small couches that was tucked up snugly in a corner nook of the bookstore.

It was only when she was seated with the book on her lap that she finally dragged in a breath to respond.

“Akira-senpai… why is Akechi-san so… brutal?” she asked.

It wasn’t an answer to Akira’s question, and his brows knit together in response. Nonetheless, he didn’t call her out on it, yet. Instead, he considered his answer carefully.

“There are a lot of reasons,” he finally said with a slight shrug. He leaned against the wall across from her, one hand tucked into his pocket. “Some of them I can’t tell you. They’re Akechi’s secrets to share. But… some of them you deserve to know too, since you’re fighting alongside him and risking your life for him.”

Kasumi perked up a little; so she _was_ going to learn more about Akechi, even despite everything. That made this venture worth it alone; she was sincerely hopeful that learning more about him would help make everything else about him click for her. She straightened, carefully resting the book he’d pulled out for her in her lap. Seeing the way she seemed even more engaged, Akira paused, and then grinned.

“How about we make another deal?”

“A...deal?” Kasumi couldn’t help but parrot back, her head tilting. It was true that their first proper interaction had involved a similar deal, though, so after a moment she just relaxed and smiled. “You sure do like deals, don’t you, Senpai?”

“There’s something fair and honest about a give and take,” Akira said simply with a shrug.

“That sounds like you,” Kasumi said. “But in that case… why not? Let’s make another deal.”

Akira seemed satisfied with that response, smiling at her as he laid out their terms. “I’ll tell you what I can about Akechi, but in return, you have to tell me how you’re really feeling, honestly. And if you’re really okay or not.”

No matter how Kasumi looked at it, she was getting the better deal here--hadn’t that been the case for their first deal too? She thought that ruefully to herself as she slowly nodded, because in a sense, denying his terms would’ve just been admitting that she wasn’t doing okay in a different way. She wanted to at least _try_ to put words to how she was feeling before she caused her senpai even more worry that he didn’t need. This way, at least, she’d be able to try to understand Akechi a little better as well.

“It’s a deal,” she confirmed. “Though I think I’m always ending up with the better end of our deals.”

“Really?” Akira asked, lips twitching into a small, amused smile. “From where I’m standing, I think it’s the exact opposite.”

Kasumi just shook her head, but something about the light response made her smile as well, and her shoulders felt a little lighter as well as she tried to get her thoughts in order to hold up her end of the bargain. She always felt this way when she was talking with Akira. It was kind of amazing that one person could be so good at putting her at ease, wasn’t it?

“Alright, Senpai,” she said with a quiet hum. “You win. So… will you tell me about Akechi-san? There’s so much I don’t understand about him now. But I really do want to understand him as best I can.”

Akira inspected her for a long moment, but Kasumi met his gaze calmly and evenly. This was something she felt certain about, even in an endlessly shifting and changing world. Even in a world where she was starting to wonder if something might be a little wrong with her, she still wanted to be able to understand Akechi. He was her companion now, just like Akira was. That was reason enough. Doing anything less but trying to understand him properly felt like she was giving in too easily, and Kasumi had never been one to throw in the towel.

After that moment’s inspection, Akira smiled, a faint but approving expression. “Like I said before, there’s a lot that only Akechi can tell you about himself. You can learn that from him on your own.”

He only waited a moment, long enough for Kasumi to nod in response, before he continued. “But Akechi, like he told you, doesn’t consider himself one of the Phantom Thieves. He...was a part of us once, but only briefly, and it was never meant to last.”

Akechi _had_ reacted quite viciously when Kasumi had asked him if he was a Phantom Thief. Was this why…? She didn’t interrupt, but a hand came to her chin as she thought.

“We were on opposite sides,” Akira finally said, and while Kasumi got the sense he was simplifying an extremely complex situation, she didn’t call him out on it. It was overwhelming enough to try to understand what such a simple statement could mean. On opposite sides? But if the Phantom Thieves were on the side of justice and exposing corruption, then…

“... You don’t just mean because he was a detective, do you…?” Kasumi asked slowly.

Akira shook his head. “No. He was trying to take us down for his own reasons.”

Akira didn’t give her more than a moment to consider that, before he continued, “I’m telling you this because you should at least know to be careful of him. He’s going to do what he thinks is right to do, and no amount of friendship speeches or protecting him in battle will change his mind on that.”

Kasumi almost felt chagrined, like she was being scolded; Akira watched her dip her head, and was quick to shake his head. “I don’t mean it like you did anything wrong.”

“But Senpai, if doing all of that is pointless, then--” Kasumi began, lips parted gently.

“I said it wouldn’t change his mind,” Akira corrected almost gently. “Not that it was pointless.”

Kasumi fell silent at that, her head tilting slightly. She wasn’t sure that she entirely understood the distinction, but Akira didn’t really elaborate; instead, he smiled a little. “Honestly, right now Akechi’s goal is the same as ours. I don’t really see that changing, so he’s not going to get in our way or try to stop us.”

Not unless someone changed their goal--a fact that lingered heavily in the air, even though it remained unsaid. Instead, Akira said, “I’m actually really happy that you’d try to help Akechi in battle. He hasn’t exactly been nice to you. So… even though I said all of that, I wanted to say thank you for that, too.”

Kasumi opened her mouth again to argue that fact and found that she couldn’t. It was true. By every definition and from every perspective, Akechi had been rather cruel. Even so, there was something about his honesty, cruel as it could be, that Kasumi was drawn to. If nothing else, he would never pretend to be her friend while lying about her behind her back. He would never try to act like she was trying to be better than him, or that she herself was fake.

No, Kasumi thought to herself, lips twitching ruefully. If anything, he would just tell her how little he thought of her to her face. But still, even though that could sting… after the year she’d had and the way everyone had treated her at Shujin, it almost felt liberating.

“You don’t have to thank me, Senpai,” Kasumi said with a smile, lips curving with sincere warmth. “It’s what I want to do. I may not entirely understand it myself… and I _definitely_ don’t understand Akechi-san. But still, doing what I can to help him out while we’re on the same team is what I want to do.”

A pause, and Kasumi added quietly, “You’re the same way, aren’t you?”

Akira sighed, plucking his glasses from his face so he could run a hand down it with almost exasperated weariness. But even so, when he put his glasses back on and straightened, he seemed more put-together and certain to Kasumi. “Yeah,” Akira said with a rueful quirk of his lips. “I’m the same way. I want to help him too… so I’d appreciate it if you help him out however you can too. Who knows? He kind of expects it from me, but if you do too, maybe he’ll start to actually believe it. Maybe between the two of us, we could…”

Akira trailed off there, and though she waited, he didn’t continue. Kasumi blinked. “We could what, Akira-senpai?”

He dragged in a deep breath at that, before he simply shook his head. “Never mind. It’s not important. What matters is that I told you what I could about Akechi. The rest you’ll have to hear from him, if he wants to share and if you wanna ask.”

“Right,” Kasumi said, a hand clenched into a fist that she made a small fistpump with. She suddenly felt very enthused that she would be able to make some sort of difference, small as it might be… and that alone felt like it gave her a brighter outlook on the situation. There was still a lot she didn’t understand about Akechi, but if nothing else, now she felt as though she was beginning to have the tools to reach that understanding. Maybe, given a bit more time and effort…

“So,” Akira said, eyebrows arching. “It’s your turn to uphold your end of the bargain.”

Kasumi slowly blinked, dread settling in. “Oh… you mean talking about how I’ve been…?”

“Honestly and sincerely,” Akira pointed out dryly, and Kasumi sighed, frowning at him.

“Right, right, I know… I’m just trying to think of how to put it.”

Akira’s amusement, faint as it had been, faded immediately at that, and subtle as the expression shift was, he looked more concerned again. “You can start wherever you feel comfortable starting. I don’t want to force you into talking about stuff you’re uncomfortable talking about.”

“I know, Senpai,” Kasumi said with a small smile. “You’re thoughtful like that. But I just don’t feel right talking about how I’m doing when you’re dealing with so much more. I know you’re really worried about the Phantom Thieves, after all.”

Something flickered in Akira’s expression then, something both pained and a little frustrated, and Kasumi wasn’t sure how to deal with that sort of reaction. The thought made her feel sheepish and almost a little helpless. Here she was, talking to Akira about Akechi as if she could understand him, when she could barely understand her senpai to begin with. Maybe she was just too naive or self-centered to understand either of them, especially when they both clearly already understood each other. Was she just in the way…?

“Listen, Kasumi,” Akira said with a faint sigh, shoving his hands into his pockets more firmly, shoulders hunching with the motion. “You don’t have to worry so much about me, alright? I’m handling things okay. I’m more worried about you. So… tell me how you’re feeling as if the Phantom Thieves aren’t a part of this at all. Okay?”

Normally, Kasumi thought that that alone might have been enough to comfort her. But today wasn’t a normal day. Today, she already knew too little about what was going on, and now Akira was railroading her further. Today, she was unnerved and unhappy about all of the things she didn’t understand, and Akira refusing to talk to her about the Phantom Thieves wasn’t his attempt to comfort her or keep her from taking on too many burdens like she might’ve thought it was on any other day. Instead, Kasumi felt her heart sink--wasn’t it just that Akira didn’t trust her with his problems at all?

Again, it felt like the world _slipped_ out of focus, and her head throbbed, much like it had when she was speaking with Akechi. Again, something felt _off_ , in a way that she could not explain. The high point of feeling as though she could help Akechi and Akira in her own way was muffled as if distant.

Again, her mouth opened almost unbidden, and again, the words escaped her before she was even processing that she was speaking.

“I don’t know if I want to talk about what’s wrong with someone who doesn’t really trust me that much.”

Akira froze, but it was too late to stop now.

“I can understand why you wouldn’t want to trust someone like me, but I don’t feel like I should bother you with my problems either then. It would just be a waste of your time, wouldn’t it…?”

Kasumi huffed, continuing almost blindly, as if she couldn’t stop now that she had begun, even though the words sounded entirely alien to her own ears. “I’m sorry. I’m not interested in something like that. I don’t… want to be pitied, or helped just because I’m weak. I know I am, so please… please don’t remind me…!”

She froze as well, almost snapping back to herself, blinking. The words echoed in her ears alongside her heartbeat, but no matter how strange they sounded to even herself, it was her own voice, wasn’t it? There was no questioning who had spoken those words. Kasumi was the one who said those words… wasn’t she?

The voice was hers, but the words didn’t feel like Kasumi’s at all.

“Kasumi…?” Akira asked tentatively, standing straight now, his hands lifted placatingly, his expression absolutely baffled. Kasumi took one look at his expression and felt her own eyes widen in horror. For her to say those words at all was bad enough, but to say them to Akira, who had never been anything but kind and understanding… the world clicked back into place when their eyes met, and a sharp pain shot through her head.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped out, and then she bolted to her feet and ran, book clasped to her chest still as she fled the store.

It didn’t strike her until later, with her face pressed against her pillow and her eyes squeezed tightly shut, that she had broken one of her deals with Akira for the first time, and had never upheld her end of their bargain.

* * *

Kasumi’s phone was buzzing.

She groaned, and shoved her face against her pillow more. Right… she’d fallen into bed when she’d gotten home, rolling about in emotional turmoil until she finally slipped into a nap. Now, waking up groggily, Kasumi flailed for her still-buzzing phone.

She lifted it up when her fingers found it in her bedspread, staring at it blearily, before she answered it.

“Hello…?”

“ _\--sumi? Can you… me?_ ”

The voice on the other end of the line was almost too staticy to parse, and Kasumi frowned at her phone with flat irritation. She really, _really_ needed to get that fixed… Kasumi was so distracted by the faultiness of her phone that it took her a moment to realize it was Akira’s voice on the other side, half-covered by static. What had happened at the bookstore slammed into her suddenly, and Kasumi flushed and had to fight off the urge to bury her face back into her pillow again.

“ _Ka--? Hello?_ ”

Kasumi cradled her phone to her ear, and cleared her throat, responding tentatively, “I’m here, Senpai… Can you hear me?”

There was more scratchy static, before Akira’s voice came through again. “ _\--were trying to meet up for… Palace._ ”

Kasumi froze and yanked her phone from her ear to look at the time on the screen. The time flicked to show _6:47 PM_. She’d been asleep for _that_ long? From the phone, even with as muffled and static as the voice was, she could clearly hear Akechi snap, “ _She is the only one… can bring us… Palace as of now. It isn’t..._ choice _for her to show up._ ”

Fumblingly, she brought the phone back up to her ear, stammering out a hasty, “I’m on my way, Senpai, on my way! Just wait a little while longer, please!”

She flung herself out of bed, grabbed her coat and phone and hastily left her room. At the top of the stairs to her room, she paused, and then hustled back to grab her wallet as well. The book she’d accidentally taken from the bookstore in her haste to leave Akira behind had been staring at her accusingly on her desk since she woke up; she needed to go back and pay for it. Later, though, Kasumi thought to herself with a frown as she trampled down the stairs, none of the gymnast grace she was so well known for in the movements.

“Ah--you _are_ home,” her father said, peeking out from the kitchen. “Do you want dinner?”

“Not now, dad!” she said hastily as she tugged her shoes on in the entryway. “I’ll grab something when I get home, but I really need to go. Um, be back soon! I’m off!”

She left her father staring in bemusement as she headed out without dinner for the first time in who knew how long, and immediately trotted towards the train station. Her conscience begged her to go to the bookstore, but it was in the opposite direction, and it was the thought of both Akechi and Akira waiting for her in the January cold that ultimately decided her course for her. She could pay for the book after their Palace run.

The train ride felt like it took ages, and when Kasumi ran up to the two loitering young men in front of the Palace, it became very obvious very quickly that it had felt that way to them, too. Akechi scowled at her, a short temper rendered even shorter by his red nose and cheeks, his hands shoved deep into his pockets to ward off the cold, while Akira’s calm was a little off, demonstrated only by how far up he’d tugged his scarf to try to cover his face. Because of that, Kasumi couldn’t tell if he was smiling at her or not as she trotted up, breath crystalizing in the air. It made her tense up even further--but now wasn’t the time for that, especially as Akechi snapped out with faux-politeness immediately, “If you wouldn’t mind, Yoshizawa-san--the nav?”

“R-right…!” she breathed out raggedly, fishing out her phone to hit the navigation button with trembling fingers. She had a brief moment to wonder what would happen if she ever lost the history data in the nav--they would be absolutely unable to jump into the Palace in that case--before she shook her head to herself. That wasn’t worth thinking about right now. She would just have to hope that her phone kept chugging along until they made it through.

It was odd, though. She couldn’t remember dropping her phone at any point recently, but somehow there were a few cracks she’d never noticed in the screen.

… Still, now wasn’t the time for that. She was distinctly, painfully aware of Akechi’s impatience as he stared at her, and so she quickly hit the button to begin their navigation without thinking about it further.

The familiar feeling of her Phantom Thief outfit settling around her was usually comforting, but today she still felt antsy and anxious; she glanced between Akira and Akechi, both of whom had unreadable expressions on their face.

“Um,” she began, fiddling with her ponytail. “I’m sorry--”

“Let’s get moving,” Akechi said with a faint huff, brushing past her. Usually, Akira would have shot her a commiserating look at that, but instead he simply followed Akechi after a brief moment, leaving Kasumi to bring up the rear herself. This, she was beginning to realize with a sinking feeling, was going to be a _very_ long infiltration.

Their path back to the maze they’d initially found themselves stumped by was smooth, though quiet and a little tense; at a certain point, Kasumi noted that Akechi was glancing between both her and Akira with a thoughtful look on his face, all of his irritation from her tardiness fading away into something a bit more curiously amused. It was just like him to take amusement from her discomfort, she thought longsufferingly. The last thing Kasumi wanted to do was hash out what had happened with _Akechi_ there to overhear, though, so she kept her peace as they made their way through the now-familiar parts of the Palace.

“If I may,” Akechi said, staring at the nondescript door that would lead them back into that labyrinth of hallways that had stopped them cold the day before. “Perhaps it would be wise to come up with a plan now, rather than to stumble around in there for even longer.”

“Could we leave something behind us…? Like a trail to follow back?” Kasumi offered up tentatively.

Akechi crossed his arms in response, frowning a little, but there wasn’t any disagreement in his expression. “Rather fairytale-esque of you, isn’t it, Yoshizawa-san? Shall we all become Hansel and Gretel?”

She shrugged a little in response and tried to slap a chipper smile on her face, despite the stifling atmosphere. Wasn’t that just the least she could do?

“I believe it would work as a solution, don’t you?” she asked steadily.

Akechi, in return, merely shrugged as well, before they both turned their attention to Akira--who looked at both of them with a faint smile and said, “Time to make like a fairy tale protagonist and hope we don’t come across any witches.”

With their course of action set, it was then time to turn out their metaphorical pockets to see what they had on them that could be used as a proper trail. The answer, they quickly found, was not much.

“We may as well leave a trail of your lockpicks,” Akechi said blandly as he leaned against the wall furthest away from Akira and Kasumi, who were both crouched on the floor over a pile of odds and ends and Shadow fighting tools.

“No way,” Akira said immediately, reaching over to pluck a bottle of Takemedic-All from the pile. “It takes forever to make those. I need them.” He looked at the bottle critically. “Do you think this would last long enough to dribble a trail of it behind us?”

“Yes,” Akechi drawled from afar. “I can’t possibly see any situation where that could go terribly wrong. A few droplets of liquid on the floor of a seemingly air-conditioned laboratory setting as a path to guide our way… why don’t we entrust our fates to that?”

Akira blinked, and then put it back in the pile with a wry, “That’s a no, then.”

Kasumi reached out to pluck a small, glittering piece from the pile. “What’s this, Senpai?”

“Oh, a piece of rock salt,” he responded casually, before he went back to rooting around the pile.

Kasumi waited a moment, but when no explanation seemed to be forthcoming, she carefully dropped the piece back into the pile. Maybe that was just another quirk of her senpai, that he carried around things like shattered rock salt at the bottom of his pockets. Regardless, after everything that had happened that day, she didn’t really feel like she had the right to ask if he wasn’t going to volunteer the information.

“Gum,” Akira commented idly, pulling the offending packet out of the pile. “I guess we could chew it and leave it along the path.”

Kasumi, scandalized, gasped, “That would be vandalism!”

“Of the most juvenile sort,” Akechi sighed, finally straightening to peer at the pile over Akira’s shoulder. “Why are you so concerned about vandalizing a Palace, Yoshizawa-san? I swear, pay attention to the situation you are in. Rather, I imagine it would be too time consuming to be a good option, though it is an option nonetheless.”

Something in the pile caught his attention, and he frowned, planting a hand on Akira’s shoulder heavily to use him for balance as he leaned over him to snag something from the pile, ignoring Akira’s huffed grunt at suddenly having to bear most of Akechi’s weight.

“These are…” Akechi paused, squinting at the red and black packaging of the Phantom Wafers, before he sighed. “Seriously? You’ve bought your own merchandise?”

Akira was unrepentant. “Did you see the wafers come in little mask shapes? They’re so cute. Totally bootleg, but adorable.”

“Ugh,” Akechi said in response, before he just opened up the package, fished out the not-quite-right Joker mask, and crumbled it into a few tiny chunks. Ignoring Akira’s frown deftly, Akechi said dryly, “We could leave crumbs of these as we go and truly emulate Hansel and Gretel.”

Kasumi was still rooting through the pile, but she paused long enough to squint at the package. “Do you think there are enough crumbs in there for that, Akechi-san? The wafers are rather small…”

“It isn’t the size that matters,” Akira began primly, before Akechi cut him off with an immediate, “No, I don’t believe it is an actual, viable suggestion. It was merely… a joke.”

He tugged out another wafer--this one was, if one squinted and tilted their head a fair amount, almost like a skull--and crumbled that one in his fingers as well. Akira frowned at him even more deeply.

“I thought we weren’t going to use that, Akechi-san,” Kasumi asked with a blink, and Akechi nodded shamelessly. “We aren’t. But this is rather cathartic, so--”

He reached for another wafer, at which point Akira rocketed to his feet, snatched the wafer bag away with almost feline grace and speed, and in the same movement, whipped out his gun.

Kasumi barely had the chance to squawk out an alarmed, “Senpai--?!” before Akira had lifted the weapon, turned towards the wall away from both of them, and fired. The bullet lodged into the wall, leaving a hole, and Akira lowered the gun.

“We’ll mark our path like this,” Akira said simply.

Akechi huffed faintly, tilting his palm to allow the wafer crumbles to slide to the ground. “Not the sneakiest way to head about the place, is it?”

When Akira turned to arch an eyebrow at him, Akechi just waved him off with a clawed hand. “I have no objections. It isn’t as though we have to concern ourselves with running out of ammunition. We’ll mark our path this way.”

Akira crouched back down to start to gather up his seemingly endless supply of knick knacks and battle items, Kasumi gathering up the ones nearest to her to offer over to him. He thanked her with a peaceful nod (despite herself, she felt more comforted by the familiar gesture than she should have been), and piece by piece, each item was tucked away into his jacket, and, possibly, some weird Metaverse pocket dimension. The tiny bag of Phantom Wafers was last, something Akira very carefully tucked back into his pocket in a way that Kasumi honestly found a little endearing.

But with that done, he stood smoothly again, offering her a hand up as well. Kasumi took it, allowing him to tug her up to her feet, and then took a deep breath, reaching under her coat for her rifle. When she turned to look at her two companions, they both stood ready, guns in hand.

“Let’s go,” Akira said, and Akechi, in answer, lifted his gun and marked the door before they entered with a blast.

They progressed with renewed determination, trading off leaving a mark of some sort--bullet or ray gun scorch mark--on the walls that they passed. Kasumi had to admit, lifting her gun and firing at the nearest wall, that it was a little cathartic to mark up this picture-perfect, sterile building like this. Just… a little.

Still, the long, straight hallways and endless doors continued. There were few Shadows in this maze--perhaps they were just as confused and lost as the three of them, Kasumi thought fancifully--which only added to the monotony of the entire experience. The silence dragged, but Kasumi wasn’t sure how to break it; she was quite certain if she tried to, she would merely be scolded by Akechi for bringing up something trivial in the middle of a Palace run. She wasn’t sure if Akira was upset with her for earlier, but that simply meant she couldn’t count on him to come to her rescue if Akechi decided she was a useful target. Considering she was rather sure Akechi had yet to forgive her for being late earlier, the last thing she wanted to do was test her luck further; he hadn’t _said_ anything, but if Kasumi was learning anything, it was that Akechi could be quite mercurial. He was rather like a cat in this form, swapping between casual, silent watchfulness to fierce bloodlust at the drop of a hat.

Perhaps that was why it was startling when it turned out to be Akechi who eventually broke the silence. 

“‘Hansel and Gretel’ is a curious fairy tale, when you consider it more deeply. Have you read it, Yoshizawa-san?”

Quietly, she shook her head. While she was relatively familiar with it through cultural osmosis alone, she’d never had much of an interest in the fairy tales of other cultures, with the extent of her interest having been princesses of the like that she saw in movies.

“And you, Joker?” Akechi asked.

“I’m a little familiar with it,” Akira responded casually, in a way that made Kasumi think that he was just trying to spare her feelings, and that he was actually very knowledgeable about it. Was she just projecting from their interaction earlier that day…?

Akira lifted his gun as they came to a new split in the path, and he fired to mark the wall in front of them, before he jerked his head towards the right path. They’d been through this enough times before at this point that the three fell into line easily, moving down the indicated path without breaking stride.

“The story of two young children outsmarting some sort of terrible danger,” Akechi continued, “is actually a rather common archetype in fairy tales. In this case, it was a witch, of course, but in many others they would outsmart ogres, devils or hags.”

Kasumi, feeling almost as though this lecture was intended for her, nodded with a vague, “I see…”

She didn’t, not really; what did a fairy tale about children outsmarting ogres have to do with anything? Sure, they were adopting a similar methodology to find their way through the maze, but this seemed almost out of nowhere and purposeless… which seemed very unlike Akechi.

“I’m sure,” Akechi said blandly in return, clearly not meaning that at all, before he went back to his musings. “Of course, it is the adults who are the most horrendous in those tales, even more than the witches or ogres, for which the argument could be made they are simply following their natures. They need to eat, after all, and their meals are often human flesh. It would be foolish to despise them simply for trying to survive.”

Kasumi, mystified, looked at Akira, who simply shrugged in return with an expression on his face that plainly said something along the lines of _he’s just like this sometimes_.

“In that case, Yoshizawa-san, wouldn’t you say the real villains are the parents of these children?” Whether Akechi had actually seen the look she’d shot Akira, or if he was just picking on her in particular, Kasumi would never know. Either way, she jumped when he singled her out, and then cleared her throat and immediately tried to pretend that she hadn’t.

“The...parents? Um…” She paused, wracking her brain for any of her limited osmosis-gained understanding of the fairy tales. “Because they were the ones who left the children in the woods, right?”

“Correct,” Akechi said. They came to another fork, and Akira paused only for a moment before he sighed.

“Let’s go left this time,” he said, and Akechi lifted his ray gun to fire a long scorch mark indicating exactly that.

“The parents, generally, sacrifice their children due to a lack of resources or for petty reasons such as merely disliking them,” Akechi continued conversationally.

Kasumi was beginning to warm up to the topic of conversation now; generally, when speaking with Akechi, she always felt as though she was tentatively stepping forward with each and every word as if avoiding pitfalls, but right now, this conversation seemed perfectly safe, if a bit inane. It was also the most she’d heard Akechi speak within the Palace--at least, the most he’d spoken that hadn’t been death threats leveled at various Shadows. It seemed like a waste to miss out on the chance to speak with him more.

“That _is_ horrible,” she agreed, frowning. “The children in those stories didn’t do anything wrong at all. It isn’t their fault their parents can’t get enough to eat.”

Akira hummed a noise that Kasumi thought may have been agreement, but other than that, he didn’t comment as he strolled on forward with his hands in his pockets. He was being awfully quiet, but maybe he was also just surprised to hear Akechi speaking so much…? Or maybe he was just glad to escape the silence as well. He didn’t seem inclined to interrupt their conversation either way.

“That’s right,” Akechi said. “Or, at least, it seems right, and the story is simple enough to hardly provide much reason to believe otherwise. Our protagonists are pure and innocent of any wrongdoing, and thus they are able to triumph. It is common in fairy tales, which one could claim is a medium created out of simple, repeating motifs.”

Kasumi pondered that for a moment. “So you’re saying...that the story is simple on purpose? And because it’s so simple, it’s easier for us to believe in the protagonists?”

Akechi nodded. He paused only for a moment as Akira held up a hand, the other Phantom Thief carefully peering around a sharp corner, before he lowered it as the all-clear. “Fairy tales are simple for exactly that reason. They were meant to teach a moral lesson, after all, to both children and the adults passing the lesson on to said children, so there is little purpose to unnecessary nuance to the protagonists and villains. They can even be classified and sorted by their tropes, until you have built the tale entirely from a numerical system.”

Seeing the mystified expression on Kasumi’s face, Akechi elaborated, “You can consider it a bit like a library book within the numerical system of the library itself. Each book is classified, so by tracing a number, you can find the book you are searching for. Likewise, each folklorist trope can be numbered, until each tale can be properly found under its corresponding tropes.”

“I suppose I understand a little,” Kasumi said slowly, her nose wrinkled a little. “But… I’m not sure I understand _why_ you would go to that much effort just for some stories.”

Akechi’s lips twitched, curving upwards, but the expression was more reminiscent of a cat having spotted an injured bird than anything particularly happy, and again, Kasumi felt that sinking feeling of having stepped right into some sort of verbal trap.

“Oh, I’m sure there are plenty of reasons for the effort,” Akechi said, deceptively lightly. “I think it is interesting, anyway. Maybe another example will help it sink in for you?”

Kasumi felt the sudden, strong urge to abort the conversation, but when she looked around for help, there was only Akira’s back as he led the way through white walled halls that all looked exactly the same, and not even any Shadows to interrupt their talk.

“Yoshizawa-san?” Akechi asked, faux-politely. “Are you listening?”

She cleared her throat, closed her eyes for a moment, and turned her attention back to him with a faint smile that she hoped did not show off her concern of just what sort of trap she’d stumbled into. “Um, yes, of course, Akechi-san!”

“Good. You should be,” he said, this time dispensing with the charade of politeness entirely. “There’s another fairy tale that can be sorted in the same way. It might sound a little familiar; it is quite popular. By the Aarne-Thomson-Uther Index, it is classified as 510A due to its tropes.”

Kasumi blinked slowly. “The Aa--what...?”

Akechi didn’t bother to answer that question, instead continuing as if she’d never spoken, “It’s more commonly known as ‘Cinderella’--does that sound familiar, Yoshizawa-san?”

Oh. So that’s where the trap was. She grimaced immediately, this time unable to slap a nice smile over the expression. Akira had meant well when he’d tried to meddle with her understanding of her own Persona, but Kasumi rather doubted that Akechi did as well. That meant he had an entirely different reason for bringing it up, and she wasn’t sure she was ready for whatever reason that was. She still wanted to understand him, and this was an opportunity to truly get to know the real him better, now that he was actually speaking with her, and yet… poking at her inability to speak with her own Persona was a bit like poking at an open wound, one that she was just touchy enough about to not want him to approach it. It was too late for that, though, wasn’t it?

Akira glanced over his shoulder at that, his brow furrowing. “Hey, Akechi--”

“What is it, Joker?” Akechi asked, tone taut. “Can Yoshizawa-san not answer for herself? This _is_ a rather relevant topic to her in particular.”

Akira rolled his eyes at that, before he turned his attention to her instead. “You don’t have to answer him if you aren’t comfortable, you know.”

Kasumi offered him a weak smile, but she knew better. Akechi would know that it was a weak point of hers if she chose not to answer, and some instinct told her that was something she _did not_ want to happen.

“Um…” She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and said, “Yes, of course. Cinderella… it’s just another name for Cendrillon. I’m familiar with the fairy tale, Akechi-san.”

It was a little white lie; it wasn’t as though she was deeply familiar or anything. She knew the story from lighthearted, popular remakes of it in movies and the like, but she’d never delved into it any further than that. Guiltily, she thought of the book Akira had found for her, the one she had accidentally stolen, still on her bed and still unopened.

“I would hope so,” Akechi responded simply. “Considering she is your Persona, doing some basic research into her background and story is only to be expected.”

In front of them, Akira had both of his hands tucked into his pockets and was now staring at the ceiling, as if asking some higher being for strength and patience. Still, he didn’t try to interrupt again; Kasumi wasn’t sure if he was leaving it to her because he had faith in her, or because he was still irritated with her. But no… Akira wasn’t that petty. Not in all the time she’d known him, so…

“Cinderella is a simple story built of simple, commonplace tropes and motifs,” Akechi continued, idly dragging a clawed finger along the wall as they walked. The screeching noise put her nerves on edge. “I would suppose it is that simplicity that has made it so popular; it is not a difficult story to understand. All of that is straightforward enough.”

He looked at her, eyebrow arching. “My question for you, Yoshizawa-san, is how on _earth_ such a character represents your own inner rebellion.”

Akira, in front of them, huffed out a sigh and said, “Again, you don’t have to answer him, Kasumi.”

Akechi just responded, “Aren’t you curious yourself, Joker? Your own thieves’ symbolism is blatant and obvious, after all. Cendrillon does not fit the mold.”

_They said your performance didn’t quite fit the expected difficulty level for this stage of competition. I’m sure that’s part of what hurt your score, Su--_

Kasumi frowned, brow furrowing as a sharp pang shot through her head. Those words were so familiar… a memory? But she, Kasumi, had never heard words like that from her coach... 

She shook it away quickly, but through the pain flitted away, her frustration did not, and so she lifted her chin and responded sharply, “What about you, Akechi-san? What does Loki have to do with rebellion?”

To her dismay, Akechi didn’t miss a beat. He gave her a disdainful look and said, “If you were familiar with his mythology at all, you would not have to ask that question. Regardless, I’m not the topic of discussion here--Cendrillon is. I asked you a question, Yoshizawa-san.”

Honestly… What was wrong with her? Headaches, slips of memory, unnecessary belligerence that was very unlike her… it was like she was entirely unlike herself today worse than ever, and she wasn’t happy with it. Kasumi groaned, lifting gloved hands to vigorously scrub at her face. No, this wouldn’t do. She was stressed, sure, but so were the other two. She was still Kasumi Yoshizawa, and something like this wasn’t going to undermine that.

She straightened her shoulders, taking another deep breath and slapping her cheeks. When she met Akechi’s eyes, her expression was brighter, and sincerely so, much to his bemusement.

“I’m sorry about that, Akechi-san. I suppose I’ve been letting this place get to me, but that’s no reason to take it out on you. I’m sure you have a good reason for asking me these things, so… I’ll do my best to answer.”

Akechi just looked even more baffled at that, blinking slowly at her as Kasumi took another deep breath. “I’m not sure if I can explain very well why Cendrillon is my Persona… and, um, trying to figure out why she’s my ‘inner rebellion’ is still a work in progress.”

Slowly, she continued, “But to me… Cendrillon did what she wanted, no matter what kept trying to push her down, no matter who told her to stay in her place. She stopped being obedient and a people-pleaser so that she could live her own life.”

Kasumi took another deep breath in, but when she lifted her chin, she felt even more certain about her words. “Even if maybe I’m not really there yet myself, she’s what I would like to be, I think. That’s… a form of rebellion too, right?”

“Yeah, it is,” Akira said. Kasumi blinked, only just realizing that he’d turned to face them both sometime during her explanation, and now he smiled at her, his hands tucked into his pockets still. He rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment, almost contemplative, before he nodded to himself. “That was a good explanation, and if that’s what you feel, then that’s definitely the reason. She’s yours, after all, and nobody else’s. So nobody can tell you you’re wrong when it comes to Cendrillon.”

He turned his attention to Akechi then, quirking an eyebrow. “Are you satisfied yet, or were you planning on bullying her some more? She’s not as easy of a target as you think she is, you know.”

Akechi just huffed, though he didn’t argue, and Kasumi smiled a little to herself, feeling a small amount of warmth tucked into her chest. Quietly, she lifted a hand to her chest and took a moment to simply appreciate that praise and confidence in her. Even after today, Akira still felt that way. He always had been too kind to her--but it made her want to do better, too. She needed to stop having these odd lapses in character.

“Yes, yes,” Akechi said, waving a hand as if to dismiss everything that had just happened. “I’m finished here.”

“Good,” Akira said as he turned on his heel again to start to lead the way. “It felt like I was back in English class there for a bit. I was pretty sure I was about to fall asleep.”

“You sound like a complete dunce when you say things like that,” Akechi sighed as he strode after their de facto leader.

“And you sounded like you never leave the library,” Akira shot back. “Classification of fairy tales, seriously? You know you can just ask if you’ve got a question. You don’t need to build up to it.”

Kasumi’s lips twitched a little as they fell into easy bickering once again, and she shook her head to herself with wry amusement. She was starting to get used to this much, at least, for better or for worse.

“You will have to forgive me for doubting that, considering you attempted to interrupt my questioning at every turn.”

“You don’t exactly have a great track record for how you treat Kasumi, you know,” Akira said with a sigh.

Akechi rolled his eyes, a juvenile reaction that Kasumi watched with some fascination despite herself. “When she has earned my respect, I will treat her like it. I hardly want to hear any protesting from you about how I approach my investigations. At least I bring _some_ merit to the discussion.”

Akira snorted softly. “I’m just calling you a nerd, Akechi.”

It was a softer insult, a softer tone than the previous handful of days had been; even Akechi seemed to notice in the way that he looked at Akira with sincere surprise for a moment, surprise followed by something that might have been discomfort. But he said nothing about it, instead scoffing under his breath and responding loudly, “That is the best insult you can come up with? Maybe you’re losing your edge.”

Akira was quiet for a moment, almost contemplatively so, before he said softly, “Maybe I don’t want to come up with my best insults for you.”

_Now_ Akechi most certainly looked discomfited, and Kasumi glanced between them both, her brow furrowed quietly as she tried to figure out what to make of that little exchange. Maybe...her initial impression that Akira and Akechi had been friends wasn’t as far off as she’d thought it was. But then, why the frosty distance initially, and why the olive branch now…? She didn’t get the chance to really dwell on it; Akira began to stalk through the endless hallways more quickly, Akechi following silently, and Kasumi moved to trot after them quickly. Her ribbon swayed with the movement of her head as she turned, and--

Kasumi froze.

Wait… her ribbon? She hadn’t been moving at all, but nonetheless it drifted through the air as if by some quiet, gentle breeze. This was a sterile Palace, though; it hardly had anything in the way of air flow, and certainly no breeze. Kasumi froze, head cocked.

“Senpai, Akechi-san, wait…!” she called out as loudly as she dared, lest she bring more Shadows down upon them. “I think I’ve found the exit.”

_That_ removed the awkwardness of the situation immediately; Akechi and Akira were there immediately, close enough to send her stepping back a few paces. She’d known the maze was wearing on all of them, but she hadn’t realized _quite_ how much until she saw the eager hope mirrored on both of their faces.

“Well, Yoshizawa-san?” Akechi said, tone stiff as if to try to hide his eagerness. “Why don’t you enlighten us as to where said exit is?”

Kasumi opened her mouth… and then dipped her head a little as she realized her eagerness had gotten ahead of her a little. “Well… um, I don’t know where the _exit_ is, exactly…”

Akechi scowled at her, and bolstered by her plan, she frowned back at him fiercely, continuing before he could speak, “But I know how to find it!”

Akira nudged Akechi as he opened his mouth again, before he said simply, “Go ahead, Kasumi. How are we going to find it?”

She straightened to nearly a dancer’s poise on the tips of her toes, chin and head up, and sure enough, the ribbon drifted gently in the air, despite her remaining perfectly still. She opened her mouth to explain, and Akechi cut in, his hand at his chin and expression now contemplative. “Ah, I see. There’s some sort of unexplained airflow, and you noticed it due to your ribbon. The airflow may lead us to a secret passage, or the so-called exit.”

Kasumi deflated a little. Akechi had deduced it so quickly, when she had been so proud and excited to explain what she’d figured out. Still, there was no time for her feeling sorry for herself when they needed to get out of this horrible maze; instead, she nodded, offering him a small smile. “Right! I thought it was strange that it was moving despite me not turning my head, so I think… there must be some sort of hidden exit around here somewhere. We can use my ribbon to find it.”

Akira reached out to rest a hand on her shoulder with a small nod. “Good job. That’ll be a huge help for getting us out of here. We were already wasting too much time in this place.”

His praise left Kasumi glowing, but she couldn’t dwell on it for long; Akechi huffed, muttering a quick, “Well, get on with it then. We’ll need the ribbon to find the door.”

“Oh! Yes, of course,” Kasumi said. She reached up, snagging the end of the ribbon in her hair and tugged it out with one quick, infinitely practiced moment. Her hair fell around her shoulders in a neat, straight curtain of red.

And then it felt like her head split open. She let out a faint cry despite herself, the ribbon falling to the ground from nerveless fingers as she clutched at her head, eyes shut tightly at the splitting pain throbbing at her temples. She could faintly hear Akira calling her name, concern in every syllable, but there was a buzz in her ears that was louder, nearly drowning him out.

Slowly, the white noise took the form of words, soft and whispered in her head, and her head hurt with each and every one. “ _Can you hear me yet? Or are you still not yourself?_ ”

Hear you? Kasumi wanted to respond fiercely in the affirmative. She could hear her. She could hear the voice, and she wanted to reach out to it, because she had so many questions, because she had felt so _unlike_ herself over the past week, because she wanted and needed so many answers--

And then she snapped back to herself, dragging in gasping breaths, with Akira coming into sharp clarity in front of her face. Both of his hands were on her shoulders, and Kasumi realized faintly that he was supporting her, keeping her upright as she crouched on the ground with both of her own gloved hands buried into the hair at her temples as she trembled. He looked worried, and that worry didn’t ease up as she finally met her eyes and offered him a weak smile.

“I’m… sorry, Senpai…” she managed to finally whisper hoarsely. “I’m all right now.”

She hesitated for a moment, struggling to find the words she needed. “I don’t… um, I don’t--”

“It’s okay,” Akira said quietly, cutting her off with surprising gentleness. “You don’t have to explain yourself. So long as you’re okay...”

“I am.” She nodded and hoped that both her tone and her words were as firm as she wanted them to be. She couldn’t explain what had happened, but the last thing she wanted was to be left behind now. Not after all they’d been through and all of the progress they’d made--not when it felt like she was finally contributing, and finally assisting both Akira and Akechi. Not now that she finally felt like she was beginning to understand the both of them better.

Akira frowned still, but from behind him, Akechi propped a hand on his hip. “If she’s fine, then she’s fine.”

Kasumi allowed her gaze to slide from the concerned look on Akira’s face (it only made her feel guilty) to the rather blank look on Akechi’s. Somehow, that was almost more comforting; at the very least, she wasn’t concerning him, since he clearly didn’t care what had caused the sudden migraine. There was something calculating and a little thoughtful in his gaze as he looked at her, before he just reached for the ribbon on the floor, picking it up neatly.

“I’m borrowing this. We’ve lingered here for long enough,” he said, and then he lifted the ribbon in the air to try to track exactly where the gentle but persistent airflow that had first tipped them off was coming from.

Kasumi dragged in a shuddering breath and moved to stand.

“Are you sure--” Akira began, but she smiled and began to push herself to her feet immediately.

“Yes, Joker-senpai, I’m sure!” She took a deep breath, and straightened her shoulders. “I don’t want to be a burden on either you or Akechi-san. It won’t happen again, so… please trust in me.”

Kasumi knew that it was a big ask to make when she’d been so unreliable as of late, but Akira proved once again just how reliable and kind he was when he just sighed, nodding slowly. “If that’s what you want, then I’ll trust you,” he said simply, and then with one more brief linger of his hand on her shoulder, he moved away to allow her to stand on her own.

“If you’re both done,” Akechi said tetchily. “The exit is here. Let’s get going.”

Kasumi exchanged a glance with Akira, smiling at him as firmly as she could, and he took the assurance for what it was before he strode forward to inspect the wall Akechi was standing beside. There was a pause, Akira’s brow furrowing as he squinted at the wall as if searching for something extremely intently, and then he was reaching out, running gloved fingers along a panel hidden in the wall that clicked open with a sharp noise. In the endless quiet of the hallways, it was a relief to hear, and Kasumi stepped forward in time to see Akira inspect the panel curiously.

“I suppose it will require a pass code--” Akechi began to say, brow furrowing in thought.

Then Akira stepped back, lifted a leg, and kicked it with all of his strength. The panel crushed easily under the force of his heel, and with a single, sad spark, whatever electrical work the panel was connected to shorted out. The trio had a brief moment to ponder the situation, both Kasumi and Akechi staring at Akira in shock, before the floor opened up from under them and then they were falling.

They landed in a heap, Akira on the bottom and Kasumi on top with Akechi sandwiched between, and Akechi huffed in clear irritation, wheezing as he tried to catch his breath.

“This,” he said tartly, “did not need to...happen.”

“Ow,” Kasumi responded eloquently, convinced her landing had hardly been the softest even though she’d been on top, what with how many sharp edges Akechi had.

From beneath, at the bottom of the pile, Akira could only wheeze out a gasped breath.

They sorted themselves quickly, Kasumi springing to her feet and Akechi getting up a bit more slowly, scowling at Akira in a way that made it clear that was his punishment for Akira’s actions. Akira, despite how sore his ribs had to have been, was also quick to get up, brushing himself off.

Akechi crossed his arms. “Are you always this foolish in Palaces? It’s a marvel you ever made it as far as you did if this is how you solve puzzles.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Akira responded with a cheeky grin, dusting himself off once more before he turned his attention to where they’d landed. Kasumi glanced around as well, frowning a little to herself.

“Is this… a lab…?” she asked quietly, one hand clutched to her chest as she stared at the pristinely white, open room they’d found themselves in. Lab benches were spaced tidily along the white tiled floor, with sterile countertops lining the edges of the walls. They were all entirely empty, and somehow, she felt like that was almost more eerie than if there had been actual, horror-style experiments decorating them.

“Seems like it,” Akira murmured, glancing around with renewed wariness and interest in equal measure. “We should keep moving. It doesn’t look like there’s anything in here.”

Akechi inspected the room with narrowed eyes and a frown on his face, but when he caught her looking at him curiously, he just stepped forward to offer her her ribbon back. As soon as she took it, he waved a sardonic hand forward.

“After you, Yoshizawa-san,” he said, arching an eyebrow at her. Kasumi could take her cue, curious as she was; she tied up her hair as she followed Akira. He began to carefully pace forward, striding through the room with silent, careful steps. He held up a hand when they made it to the door, a faint frown on his face, and both crouched up against the door near him to listen. The door was surprisingly solid, and Kasumi could barely hear the chatting Shadows from the other side, no matter how she strained her ears.

“... test subject… missing…” one said, every other word too garbled and faint for her to make out.

The other responded, “She… be found… as possible.”

Kasumi frowned. A missing test subject didn’t sound good to her; it sounded like the beginning of one of those sci-fi horror films she’d barely watched with her sister, her face half-hidden behind a pillow the whole time. Akira’s expression was unreadable, but Akechi again looked thoughtful, and Kasumi wondered what kinds of theories his brain was able to come up with. Maybe if she didn’t irritate him further this Palace run, she’d be able to ask him.

The voices moved away, and Akira gently nudged the door open, peering around the edge cautiously. When he saw the coast was clear, he carefully slinked through the door, beckoning to Kasumi and Akechi to follow.

“Ugh,” she heard Akechi mutter to himself, voice barely a breath in her ear. “ _More_ white hallways.”

Kasumi took a look, frowning for herself. It was true that they immediately looked the same as the maze they’d been caught in before, but Akira shook his head.

“Don’t worry,” he said simply. “They’re different. We’re out of that maze.”

“Oh?” Akechi responded, at the same time that Kasumi asked, “It is?”

Akira nodded, pointing to the wall, against which rested a clean, white-upholstered couch. “There’s seating now.”

“Senpai…” Kasumi responded, looking at his askance. “Be serious…”

“No, he is,” Akechi cut in thoughtfully, a hand at his chin. “You mean to imply that this is a hallway that’s in use, not one that was created solely to stymie us. In other words, we’re getting somewhere now.”

Akira nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets casually. “If this is an area that’s meant to have people, it means we’re getting closer to where the Palace Ruler is,” he elaborated. “It’s better than where we were for sure.”

“So… we’re finally making progress,” Kasumi said, perking up despite her exhaustion.

Akechi didn’t share her optimistic enthusiasm. “It is rather belated progress, though I suppose there’s no use bemoaning it now. We should continue, regardless. Lead the way, Joker.”

The three snapped back to business at that, Akira moving forward to glide like a shadow towards the next pathway. Doors lined these halls, and Kasumi found herself inspecting them curiously as they passed by. Were they all laboratories like the room they’d fallen into…? Or were they something else entirely? They all looked the same, white and nondescript in a way that Kasumi could only describe as foreboding.

“Strange, aren’t they?” Akechi murmured to her as they followed Akira. It was so unusual for Akechi to initiate conversation with her that for a moment, Kasumi just stared at him--but then she shook herself, nodding solemnly instead.

“I wonder what’s in them,” she confessed in a hush. “But I also feel as though maybe I don’t want to know… It is a little difficult to explain.”

Akechi looked contemplative for a moment, before he nodded slowly. “Since it is you, Yoshizawa-san… I believe I understand why you would feel that way.”

Kasumi opened her mouth to ask him what he meant, her brow furrowing a little--because it was _her_ , as if it had to be her for that feeling to exist...?--but then Akira hissed out a soft, “Incoming Shadows!”

This time, they got the jump on them; Akira spun around the corner so quickly the Shadow never had the chance to even begin to process what was coming for it; with its mask ripped away, it melded into three cloaked Shadows. They were staggered and dazed, and Kasumi’s hand immediately shot to her mask.

Nebiros. They’d fought them before; this time, Kasumi knew what needed to be done. She could sense Akechi and Akira spread out in their typical battle formation, and she knew exactly where they were and what they would do. For the first time, Kasumi could feel it--there was a buzz in her veins, a thrill to the way her heart leapt as she faced their opponents.

She felt like she used to, back when she stepped out into the gymnastics arena and _flew_.

“Allow me!” she called out, hand immediately tugging at her mask, even as it melded away into nothing but flames that licked at her skin, but did not hurt. “Cendrillon, these ones are ours!”

She couldn’t hear Cendrillon’s response; it was muffled and faint once more. But she could feel Cendrillon’s thrilled willingness, and that was enough to boost Kasumi forward and onward, her Persona’s power at her fingertips as she reached out towards the Shadows.

The light that slammed into all three was so bright it nearly burned to look at it, and the Nebiros cried out as they hit the ground. But they were still alive, listing sideways with as pained as they were, and Kasumi reacted automatically. One step forward, two, and she reached out her hand. She was moving only on instinct, thinking only that if she had read her companions correctly, then they would _be there_ \--

A hand hit hers, their palms slapping together with enough force to make her entire hand sting, even as a surge of power gathered where they touched. But even more than the passing of power through the baton pass, Kasumi blinked in surprise as she glanced over to see Akechi scowling through his mask, his sword raised.

“Don’t just _assume_ someone will be there, you idiot! Actually have a plan first!” he snarled, before he whirled to face the Shadows, his ray gun raised. It took only three shots, Cendrillon’s power bolstering each metaphysical bullet, and the Shadows faded away into nothingness.

He turned to scowl at her further, but she just smiled brightly at him. “It worked, right?” she chirped, a hand on her hip. “You were right where you needed to be, Akechi-san--thank you!”

He stared at her for a moment, and then he scoffed, pressing a clawed hand over his face in speechless exasperation; it didn’t last long before Akira was right there, though, bumping shoulders with each of them with the first genuine smile on his face that Kasumi had seen in some time.

“You know what, guys?” he said with a grin. “I think that was some actual _teamwork_.”

Kasumi clapped her hands together, expression bright, and Akechi scoffed and yanked away from the impromptu almost-huddle as quickly as he could, a movement that made Akira laugh quietly.

Teamwork, Kasumi mused, looking between the two of them thoughtfully. She had always played the solo star in her gymnastics despite training and working with her sister; in the end, it had still been a competition, her against all others. This was new, but she thought that the warm feeling in her chest was something worth holding onto with all of her strength.

The light feeling persisted through the remainder of their exploration for the evening and when they finally found a safe room tucked away amongst the many foreboding doors down a hallway and some stairs to duck into, all three of them with their shoulders drooping from weariness, they nonetheless had the solace of knowing that they had progressed further in more ways than simply through the Palace.

Kasumi breathed out a soft, tired sigh once she found herself alone, trudging tiredly down the sidewalk towards her train. It was only once she made it to the station, her head tilted back as she watched her breath crystalize in the air, that she shoved her hands into her coat pockets to ward off the cold.

Her searching fingers found the wallet she had tucked in there for safekeeping to pay for the book she’d accidentally stolen, and Kasumi groaned, burying her face in her hands immediately as both her brain and body immediately protested the thought of going so far out of her way to pay for the book when she was already so exhausted.

But she’d promised herself…

Wearily, Kasumi made her way to the bookstore, reluctance in every single heavy step. If nothing else, she had to be able to keep promises to herself, right? After profuse apologies and explanations and properly paying for the book, Kasumi stumbled home, mumbled a greeting to her father as she staggered by, and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.


	4. 1/5 - Part One

The morning of January 5th came earlier than she wanted it to, and Kasumi rolled over groggily, squinting at the sunlight streaming through her window. Right… she’d been so tired the night before she’d forgotten to draw the curtains all the way before she fell asleep. Slowly, she pushed herself up, glancing down at her clothing, before she just flopped back against the bed with a groan. She remained there for a long moment, basking in the relief that she didn’t have any _real_ reason to get up just yet, not with vacation still in full swing… it seemed as though the maze and the previous day in general had taken more out of her both physically and mentally than she had thought.

She had to wonder--was that the case for Akira and Akechi as well? Akira always seemed so strong and certain as he led the way through the Palace, while Akechi was so difficult to read… she supposed if they _were_ tired, they would never show that sort of thing to her. To them, that would be a weakness, right?

To her, she knew that exhaustion was an indication that you gave it your all while you were out on the floor, and there was nothing to be ashamed of in that.

Still, without school to get up for, and without gymnastics to prepare for, she was a bit at loose ends. They wouldn’t go into the Palace until later, Kasumi was sure, which meant the day stretched ahead of her, empty in a way that was almost unnerving. She thought of the man in Shibuya, of his wide grin that stretched across his face and his distant words, and shuddered. Something was still wrong with the world, and she wanted to do her part to fix it. How could she just enjoy the day as a holiday when that was the case?

But what could she do right now, without her two companions? While Kasumi felt as though she’d been making decent strides in utilizing her Persona and in being a helpful member of the team, there wasn’t much she could do on her own in the real world.

Kasumi rolled over, resting her cheek on her pillow with a sigh.

On her nightstand, there was the book Akira had picked out for her, and carefully, she reached out to pick it up, inspecting the cover for a moment. If she couldn’t do anything outwardly, maybe… she could do some soul-searching within? It was too long to read in one go, but Kasumi thumbed through it anyway, eyes scanning the pages as if searching for the answers that Akira had seemingly thought this book would give her.

Nothing jumped out at her, and her expression flattened bit by bit as she continued to read. The story was familiar enough to her, in a vague sort of way; the youngest, most beautiful daughter, Himegimi, was bullied as soon as her mother passed away, her stepmother vastly preferring her own daughters to her stepdaughter. Himegimi tolerated such abuse and poor treatment… even if she found happiness in the end, was this truly some form of rebellion? To simply put up with that sort of treatment until something finally changed for the better?

Kasumi huffed out a breath, flopping back to the bed and letting the book slip from her fingers to the bedspread. Nothing. Sure, she had yet to finish the story, but if there was going to be some sort of divine bolt of inspiration, couldn’t it have hurried it up and made it happen in the first twenty or so pages? Her internal grumblings caused nothing to happen, however, and Kasumi couldn’t help but huff out a vaguely amused breath at her own expense. Honestly, she was acting like a total child… but even so, hadn’t she given it a fair effort?

“Cendrillon…?” she whispered at the ceiling. Perhaps she’d gotten closer to her own Persona? Perhaps now, she would respond, if only out of respect for Kasumi’s efforts in understanding her?

She held her breath until her lungs burned, but no response came from her Persona, and Kasumi let the breath out as a long sigh.

“Now I’m talking to myself,” she murmured. “And ‘myself’ won’t even answer back.”

Still, even as she felt the urge to feel sorry for herself, the way the sun streamed through the window was extremely warm. She was a little sore, but in the sort of way that made her feel as though she was doing something important, and nothing she minded at all. In short, she felt _alive_ , and Kasumi smiled a little to herself as she realized.

“I guess it’s not so bad if you don’t want to talk yet,” she said, finally sitting up and glancing at the book. “Still… these stories sure do have a lot of nasty siblings, don’t they?”

No response, of course. Kasumi didn’t expect one, though, and it didn’t slow her down as she reached out to run a finger along the book’s spine.

“How awful, to treat your own sibling that way… What must it be like to be so jealous that you’d forget how important they are to you?” she murmured to the empty room.

_Do you mean to say you are still under this spell?_

The voice broke through her thoughts loudly and clearly--so loudly, in fact, that Kasumi clutched at her head, wincing as it seemed to echo in her own brain. Her breath hitched, her head beginning to throb immediately, but this time… _this time_ she wanted to seize the moment, instead of letting it slip by, no matter what it took.

“Cendrillon…!” she gasped out. “What--what ‘spell’? What do you mean? Please… tell me!”

The sudden silence in the room was almost deafening in response, and Kasumi’s breath hitched as she grit her teeth in frustration. Was it that Cendrillon could not speak more than that? Was it that Cendrillon was choosing not to speak to her? If so, why…?

Just sitting here wouldn’t get her any answers. Kasumi dragged in a slow breath, straightening. She had to go find the answers herself. She hopped out of bed, moving towards her closet to grab a fresh change of clothes, when her father called up, “--re? Are you all right?”

A small part of Kasumi noted how strange it was that he was so muffled at the beginning--but the rest of her felt immediate guilt at how she’d been shouting at nobody in her own room. Right. First, reassuring her father. After that… then she would go find her answers.

* * *

By the time Kasumi was ready to leave the house, after sitting down with her father to reassure him that she was quite all right and that she’d been spending her time with some good friends, and after having a big breakfast with him, it was late in the morning. Pleasantly full and feeling a great deal more settled than she had that morning, Kasumi basked in the moment for a brief couple of seconds. Then she looked at the clock.

“Ah… I need to go, dad! I have some things I need to do today,” she explained hastily as she gathered her coat and gloves, tugging them on so quickly as to be clumsy.

Her father looked at her for a moment, expression unreadable, before he simply smiled quietly and nodded. “Alright then,” he said, propping a hand on his hip. “Try to be on time for dinner tonight? It gets pretty lonely when I’m not used to eating without my little princess.”

Kasumi bit her lip at that. She couldn’t _promise_ anything; she had no idea how long their Palace run would go. But maybe if they made great progress… She nodded firmly. “I’ll do my best! See you tonight, dad.”

He smiled at her as she left, and Kasumi tilted her head back to enjoy the brisk January air as she stepped outside. ‘Little princess’, huh…? It made her think of Himegimi again--she, too, had been the little princess of that family, before everything in her life had come crashing down. Kasumi’s life was stable enough, though; she still couldn’t see the connection, no matter how she thought about it. Cendrillon was still a mystery, and she’d been left with more questions than answers this morning. Still, though, she felt optimistic, more so than she had in some time, and she couldn’t explain why. If nothing else, she’d gotten Cendrillon to respond. At least some of her answers did lay in the story of her Persona, and in how she herself fit into it--in time, she would be able to figure it out.

That aside, something Akechi had said before their Palace dive had been niggling at her, and it was something she was determined to dig into today. They couldn’t go into the Palace without her phone, right? All because they didn’t know whose Palace it was… so if she did some research and figured that out, they wouldn’t have to rely on her admittedly unreliable phone to continue with their work. She was sure that information would be useful--and the fact that more cracks had appeared in her phone screen seemingly overnight had made her all the more anxious about the possibility of her phone just no longer working at all. She still had no idea where the cracks had come from at that, so she had to do her part before they got mysteriously worse to the point that it became unusable.

“Okay, Kasumi,” she said to herself, clenching one hand into a fist. “Let’s be productive today! I’m going to be helpful today and nothing can stop me!”

With that settled, she squared her shoulders and began to walk.

She didn’t have a destination in mind, but in truth, Kasumi wasn’t too terribly concerned with it. Even without a destination, she at least had _direction_ , and that was more than she’d had before. She felt buoyed up by that sense of purpose, determination in her stride and a small smile on her face. So she wandered, taking her time as she looked for leads, any sort of lead that could show her who this Palace belonged to. It was a longshot, she knew, to hope that she would just stumble across something like that, but sometimes to learn and grow, you just had to take those long, dangerous leaps, even if you weren’t prepared for them.

It was inevitable that eventually, her wandering feet would lead her to Kichijoji.

Kasumi wandered past familiar store fronts quietly, her hands stuffed into her pockets for warmth. She enjoyed spending time here, but that was a relatively new habit; if she was totally honest, it had just been an attempt to get away from the things she and her sister used to do together. Kichijoji wasn’t a place where they had ever spent much time together, and so it was the perfect place to try to escape her memory.

Kasumi frowned a little. She’d gotten over that urge to try to avoid things that reminded her of her sister, though, hadn’t she…? So eventually, she supposed that she must have just come to enjoy Kichijoji for what it was--a very cute place to wander and shop, with delicious food and interesting people to watch. It was strangely fuzzy when she tried to think back on it. Kasumi shook her head, brow furrowing.

“Geeze, Father! Don’t jump to conclusions like that!” a soft voice exclaimed just loudly enough to be heard over the general murmur of the crowd wandering through the streets. Kasumi blinked, lifting her head. It only took a few moments to pick out the young woman wearing a very cute pink dress--Kasumi took a moment to admire her style--before she realized that she was strangely familiar. Wait… she went to Shujin, didn’t she? And Kasumi had noticed her because--

“Haru… I’ll be waiting.”

\--because she was a Phantom Thief too, and sure enough, there was her senpai, his hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders hunched as if warding off some sort of blow. His glasses hid his expression, but Kasumi could tell after working alongside him for even just the past few days that he was hurting, if only from the tension in the lines of his body and the way his head dipped in a way that she could barely reconcile with the proud grins Joker wore in the Palace.

This was what Akira had been dealing with for the past week on his own, wasn’t it? His precious friends and team had been ripped away from him with fake memories that didn’t have a place for him in them. How lonely must that be, Kasumi wondered. How lonely, to be the only one not living in some strange dream, to be the only one aware of the truth and yet therefore the only one left behind…

She wanted to support him. She didn’t want him to have to be alone. But as she watched him interact with his teammate, it was again as though her body did not belong to herself, and Kasumi found that her feet instead began a hasty retreat, until she was stumbling backwards away from them. She didn’t know what to say. She’d intruded on something intensely personal, after all, she tried to justify to herself as she looked away. She wasn’t intended to come across it; if Akira had wanted her support, he would have told her. Right?

Kasumi turned and fled, with thoughts that she knew were excuses ringing in her ears, when she didn’t entirely know why she was so upset by this in the first place, emotions that didn’t even feel like her own.

* * *

An hour later found Kasumi seated outside of one of the many cafes to the northern end of Sun Road in Kichijoji, staring morosely into a sugary latte cupped in both hands. It was too cold to be sitting outside, and she was the only one making use of the small tables and chairs set up outside of the store front, but she was reluctant to move inside to the warmth of the cafe.

Perhaps it was the guilt over ignoring Akira when he was clearly struggling with so much on his own--but even now, when Kasumi thought back to that moment, she did not know what she would have said to him. Considering how their last interaction had gone, ending on a sour note due to Kasumi herself, the last thing she wanted to do was press her luck further, especially when Akira was struggling so much.

But wasn’t that just an excuse as well…? Akira’s friends were practically strangers to him right now; the only people he had were her and Akechi, so that meant that she had to do even more for him. It wasn’t just enough to teach him gymnastics anymore, was it? Just as he had helped her out of so many jams before, now it was her turn.

Or it would have been, if she hadn’t royally messed it up.

Kasumi groaned, letting her head flop down onto her arms on the table.

“Good going, Kasumi,” she muttered to herself. “This was your chance to make amends…”

The chair across from her scraped along the ground as someone pulled it away from the table to take a seat in it. Kasumi straightened immediately, prepared to tell whoever had the gall to join her that she was _not_ in the mood for company.

“May I join you, Yoshizawa-san?” Akechi said with a smile that was obviously fake, which he dropped immediately as he sat across from her without waiting for her response.

They stared at each other for a long moment, before Kasumi hesitantly asked, “Akechi-san… what are you doing here?”

Akechi quirked an eyebrow at her, before he ignored her question to remark blandly, “I thought you tended to avoid coffee. Something about how it lowered your body temperature, or the like?”

“Ah.” Kasumi blinked, nonplussed both by the change in subject and by the fact that he had remembered that at all. “Well… that is true. The sugar in this wouldn’t be good either for heavy practice…”

She shook her head a little, lips pursed. “But I’m not practicing right now. My coach has given me the time off. So it’s fine if I cheat a little now.”

Akechi surveyed her for a long moment before he propped his chin on his hand and looked away. “That is rather different from the impression Yoshizawa Kasumi gave me before. It seemed she took her practice and her goals quite seriously back then.”

Kasumi frowned at him. “Back then was different. I--”

… That was right, wasn’t it? Back then, she’d had goals to strive for. Back then, she hadn’t been in such a bad slump as to ruin her chances at so many things. Back then, Kasumi had had hope that she could be an athlete strong enough to accomplish her sister’s dream alongside her own.

At her silence, Akechi shifted his gaze back to her, eyebrows arched. “Well, it isn’t as if it’s any concern of mine if you are a competitive athlete or not. Regardless, to answer your earlier question: I am here because I wish to be here. Now why are _you_ here, making such an embarrassingly pitiful display of yourself?”

At this point, Kasumi was too used to Akechi’s harsh jabs to be too concerned with them; she frowned at him a little, but otherwise didn’t call him out on it. It would have only led to another argument she was unlikely to win, after all. Besides… when she thought about it, wasn’t that almost like concern coming from someone like him? Or was she only projecting?

“That’s…” Kasumi hesitated for a moment. She didn’t want to tell him, but at the same time, she needed to get it off her chest so badly she felt as though she might explode--and the unfortunate fact of their situation was that Akira and Akechi were the only two people she _could_ talk to now. Akira was obviously not an option when it came to this, which left… only Akechi.

Kasumi looked at him critically for a moment. He looked thoroughly disinterested, but even so he was looking at her, and she supposed that was all she could really ask for when it came to his attention. He was brusque, rude, and extremely trying even at the best of times. He was nothing like the genteel Detective Prince that had taken the world by storm before. But when she thought about that… it almost left Kasumi relieved. Akechi might call her pathetic for worrying over all of this, but he wouldn’t care too much; in fact, he was guaranteed to care very little about her problems. Strangely, this relieved her and made it much easier to speak, knowing he was likely to dismiss it all as if unimportant the moment it left her mouth.

At least this way, she could get it off her chest.

“It’s about Akira-senpai,” Kasumi said quietly, and she didn’t miss the way that Akechi’s eyebrows both arched in immediate response. Nonetheless she plowed on as best she could. “I didn’t realize… I know it sounds a little stupid, but I didn’t realize how much he’s dealing with right now. Not until I saw him trying to wake up one of his friends…”

She frowned, staring down at her latte now, the drink tepid after sitting this long in the cold air.

“He’s been doing this all week, hasn’t he? Trying to wake up his friends, leading us in the Palace, trying to help me with my own Persona…” Kasumi bit her lip. “But there isn’t anything I’ve been able to do for him. I didn’t even know he was struggling so much.”

And then, the words tripping off of her tongue almost unbidden, she exclaimed, “Why didn’t he tell me? I thought he trusted me…!”

There was silence after her outburst, though Akechi didn’t look as indifferent as she’d been expecting. His expression was difficult for her to read, but she thought that he looked a little derisive--and perhaps a little frustrated. Either way, he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“Are you finished?” he asked. 

Kasumi nodded mutely in response and Akechi sighed. “It is just like that idiot to continue to attempt to wake up that deadweight even when they clearly can’t break free from this spell on their own.”

Something about his word choice stuck in her brain, lodged there like a particularly difficult move she couldn’t quite land in practice, and Kasumi frowned.

“I cannot deny that they would be useful muscle in our situation,” Akechi continued, either not noticing Kasumi’s discomfort or simply not caring. “But expecting them to come back to themselves at this point is a fool’s errand.”

“But,” Kasumi protested, “he’s trying to wake them up because they’re his friends and he cares about them.”

“So?” came Akechi’s response, almost lackadaisical. “It is still a waste of time, and the amount he does or doesn’t care about them hardly factors into it. That is the truth regardless.”

Kasumi’s lips pressed together, but she found that she didn’t have any good arguments to make against that; wasn’t it true that even though they were so important to him, those very friends weren’t by Akira’s side right now when it really mattered…? Right now, it was only her and Akechi--and even though part of Kasumi knew she was being unfair with that assessment, she could only shove that part away.

“Now, you yourself are feeling the effects of a bruised ego,” Akechi continued, one eyebrow arched. “Akira did not confide in you, so here you are feeling sorry for yourself. It’s a bit of a pitiful display if I am entirely honest.”

It was a brutal reading of the situation, but again Kasumi found that she didn’t have any arguments to make against it; instead, her head hung a little as she sighed.

“Not that I do not understand the feeling,” Akechi said, and Kasumi’s head jerked back up as she stared at him. “It is rather arrogant of Akira himself to act as though he can bear all of these burdens on his own. I am sure he has some sort of bizarre notion of not ‘troubling’ either of us with the situation, or such nonsense, and so he keeps it to himself. I find it disgusting.”

Slowly, Kasumi murmured, “You… understand the feeling?”

“Don’t read too far into it. It isn’t as though I care about his feelings. I just find his hypocrisy irritating,” he responded immediately, eyes narrowed, but Kasumi couldn’t help but read into it no matter what he said. It gave her a few things to mull over, and she fell silent as she did, leaning back into her own chair.

First, Akechi did care about Akira in his own way, and possibly her as well (though she was less certain on that, admittedly). That was enough to chew on in its own right, though she’d always had the feeling that he cared more than he let on.

Secondly, Akechi didn’t find her feelings to be totally deplorable. She had gotten too used to blaming herself for everything that was happening, but wasn’t that still allowing those voices she’d gotten used to--all of those whispers in the halls of Shujin and the audience of her competitions--to keep her down? Kasumi had decided that she was going to be stronger than that. It was about time she kept to that promise, both to herself and to her sister.

“I see,” Kasumi finally murmured, a hand coming up to her chin as she thought. “It’s true that Senpai is taking on too much on his own… and that isn’t fair at all, to us or to him.”

Akechi looked like he immediately wanted to protest that ‘us’, but Kasumi simply continued more enthusiastically, “But if he doesn’t feel like he can count on us when it comes to things like this, I believe that means we have to convince him otherwise. We’ll have to prove to him that he can trust us and lean on us, Akechi-san!”

“Excuse me?” Akechi responded, for a moment looking legitimately ruffled and baffled. “I have no intentions of taking any part in any of your hairbrained schemes. It isn’t as though I have any interest in what Akira is--”

“Don’t be silly,” Kasumi continued, willfully cutting him off. At any other time, she would have apologized for that rudeness, but somehow, the look on Akechi’s face only bolstered her more. “I know you care about Akira-senpai more than you let on. Or, at least, I’m relatively certain of it.”

She paused to look thoughtful for a moment, before she shook her head. “And if you aren’t concerned, then you can’t deny that him leaning on us will help our progress. We won’t get far in the Palace if Akira-senpai is too worried sick and tired to keep going, right?”

“He’s too hard-headed to ever give in to something so stupid,” Akechi muttered, but he didn’t sound terribly convincing, and he didn’t look like he was about to start yelling, so Kasumi disregarded the protest. She was starting to realize that was one of the only ways to handle Akechi.

“We’ll have to work together, though, Akechi-san.” Kasumi took a deep breath, lifting her chin. It was difficult to acknowledge this much weakness to anyone, much less to the unforgiving face of Akechi staring her down. But this was the first step towards getting stronger; Kasumi couldn’t back down now. “In truth, I don’t know very much about Senpai, even though I want to. He’s my friend, but… he keeps a lot of things to himself.”

As evidenced by this most recent finding, honestly. Kasumi frowned, shaking that thought away. Now that she knew how much more she had to learn about Akira, she felt determined to do just that. How could she consider herself his reliable kouhai if she did anything less? So Kasumi tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, finishing quietly, “I need your help, because you know him better than I do. So please, Akechi-san--help me.”

Akechi stared at her for a very long moment, his expression thoroughly unreadable. He looked a little ruffled still, some part of Kasumi was pleased to see, but otherwise he said and did nothing for a moment that was far too long for her tastes. Then he huffed out a breath, clearly aggravated.

“No.”

“What--” Kasumi blinked at him, nonplussed. She absolutely had not expected that response, and now that he’d given it, she didn’t know what to do.

“Figure out what you want to do for him for yourself,” Akechi said, shoving his chair back to stand abruptly. “I have no idea where you are getting this notion that I know him enough to be helpful in this, but regardless, I have no interest in becoming closer to either of you two. I am using you for my own ends, as you should do as well.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets, turning to go, and Kasumi stared at his back for a long moment. But… he’d said that he didn’t know where she got the notion, but he hadn’t denied that she was right. For someone as careful with his words as Akechi was, didn’t that mean she was right after all…? Or, at the very least, she was on the right track.

She straightened. “I’m not going to give up, Akechi-san!”

She’d done too much giving up as of late; enough was enough.

“I’m going to help Akira-senpai!” she said, expression firm. “And I’m sure you’ll come around to helping me help _him_ soon.”

Akechi didn’t grace that with an answer, instead stalking away in a clear huff, but something about the tension in his shoulders and the stiff way he left made Kasumi feel as though she was more on the mark than off, at least in this situation. She settled back into her seat, breathing out a soft sigh. Watching her breath crystallize in the air, it suddenly sunk in just how cold she was and how long she’d been sitting out here; Kasumi shivered, getting up to finally leave.

There was determination in her stride, though, a spring in her step that was only getting stronger with each setback. Kasumi Yoshizawa didn’t give in when the going got tough, not in gymnastics, not in life, and certainly not in this. This just meant she had one more goal to accomplish, and with that resolved, Kasumi nodded to herself and set off once more.

* * *

They gathered again that afternoon outside of the construction site. Kasumi was early this time, and was almost amused to find that Akechi avoided her gaze studiously when he arrived. They stood in a silence that was awkward only on Akechi’s end for a long few moments, before Akira finally arrived to save Akechi from himself.

Akira looked tired, Kasumi noted quietly to herself, but even so he immediately was glancing between the two of them with faint bemusement, as if picking up on the awkward air quickly.

“Did something happen..?” he asked, and Akechi snapped out a short, “No, nothing happened. Now that we are all here, if we could happily _get on with it_ \--?”

Kasumi smiled a little to herself. She’d shaken him, and the fact that he was still shaken meant that he was still thinking about what she’d said. Still, she said nothing about it, instead obediently snagging out her phone.

“Okay,” she said, voice chipper enough that Akira looked at her with a curiously quirked eyebrow. “Let’s begin!”

She tapped the button on her phone screen, holding her breath as ever in the hopes that her phone wouldn’t pick this moment to betray her. There were more cracks in the screen than before, even if they were still not terribly worrisome; the fact that she hadn’t noticed when they’d happened still felt oddly ominous. Nonetheless, it seemed her luck was holding out; the Metaverse Navigator obediently said, “Navigation beginning” before they were dumped properly at the beginning of the Palace.

Kasumi looked up at the Palace’s white, towering walls, squaring her shoulders. “We’re going to make it through,” she murmured mostly to herself.

Apparently, she didn’t murmur it quite quietly enough; Akira looked over at her, flashing her a small smile. “Yeah. We are,” he confirmed with a nod. “We’re going to be just fine.”

Kasumi returned the smile, but it was a stiff expression despite herself; how could Akira constantly be the reassuring presence of the trio when he was dealing so much? She couldn’t help but wonder, inspecting his face for any sort of sign of the strain he had to be under, or of any of the irritation with her he must have been feeling after the way she’d lashed out before. She saw nothing, though, between his smile and the mask that covered so much of his face, and with an inner sigh, she had to give up on that line of thinking. Now wasn’t the time regardless; she’d learned long ago that getting distracted was a good way to get all three of them into trouble.

“If you are both finished patting yourselves on the back,” Akechi drawled, “Let’s get this over with already.”

Kasumi was too used to Akechi’s urging to be bothered by it now, especially not with the way that he still avoided her gaze if she looked at him for too long, so she just smiled a little and nodded firmly. “I’m ready. Let’s have a good Palace run, you two!”

“Alright,” Akira said with a nod. “Let’s go.”

That was the final word on the matter; the trio dove into the Palace with renewed determination. They progressed fiercely, taking out the Shadows in their path with a sense of ease that had been missing in the previous days, a confidence that grew with each successful battle. Each time Kasumi’s hand found Akechi’s for a baton pass, every time Akechi knew Akira would be there to back him up with each attack, no matter how reckless, and each and every time Akira could be certain Kasumi would neatly follow-up his own strikes with aplomb, their ease in battle grew.

So it was that Kasumi was feeling rather confident as they pushed their way into new territory, though it didn’t look too terribly different from the old--at first. The walls were still white, though there was a gold lining to them that was distracting; it caught her eye every now and then, before she was able to drag her gaze away. Their path took them into a room that was wider than the hallways they’d been traversing for some time; this room felt more like a small gathering place than anything, though it was empty sans a few white couches and potted plants. Perhaps it was a waiting room of some sort? Nonetheless, the aesthetic wasn’t different enough to really put her on guard.

It took her a few moments to notice, but eventually, she frowned a little to herself. Akira had looked up three times in the past thirty seconds or so, and slowly, Kasumi tilted her own head back to look at the ceiling.

She immediately wished she hadn’t.

Instead of plain white panels and eerily pristine ceiling, the ceiling instead bristled with security cameras, all of them pointed down at the three of them. There were more cameras than any single building could ever have needed; they covered every square inch of the ceiling, an absolute cluster of them, all of them pointed at them from varying distances.

Kasumi shuddered, her arms wrapping around herself. Akira glanced at her, and then back up once more, before he just shook his head quietly.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, slowing his pace until they were walking side-by-side. “If anything, it means we’re making the Palace ruler nervous. They’ve got us under surveillance now because they’re worried about our progress.”

“Or,” Akechi interjected, his tone also quiet, “We are specimens that they find particularly interesting to watch.”

Akira’s mouth twisted into a begrudging expression. “Or that.”

“Somehow,” Kasumi responded in a whisper, “that doesn’t really make me feel much better.”

Akechi just shook his head, flicking his gaze up at the cameras once more before he fixed his gaze ahead. “It wasn’t intended to. But it does us no good to ignore the situation. We are in a lab setting now, and what do they do in labs?”

Kasumi bit her lip, but she knew the answer without any prompting. “They study things.”

“Correct.” His clawed fingers tapped against one arm, something Kasumi would almost think was a nervous tic of some sort. “It is worth considering that perhaps we are the object of study here.”

The thought of that--of being a specimen on display, used for study and scientific progress only, without a single thought being given to her own thoughts and feelings and dreams--left a sour taste in Kasumi’s mouth, and she pressed her lips together, brow furrowed.

“If we are,” Akira cut in suddenly, his expression almost unnervingly calm, “then they’re going to find that we’re some pretty difficult, unruly subjects to try to study.”

Kasumi looked at him with a blink, and he gestured to the cameras with a sharp jerk of his thumb. “Why don’t we get rid of those?”

Akechi laughed, a sudden, sharp bark of a noise. “You surprise me, Joker,” he said. “I didn’t think wanton, unnecessary property damage was in your job description.”

“You don’t know me very well, then,” Akira responded steadily. “I’m not exactly a saint, you know. Besides… I’m a little tired of being watched all the time like this.”

Akechi snorted softly under his breath, but Kasumi ignored the both of them to instead inspect the cameras above them. The thought of getting out from under their blank, all-seeing lenses appealed to her, but…

“There are so many of them,” she murmured. “Are you sure we can get rid of them all?”

Akira glanced at her, and then back up to the cameras. For a moment, he framed them with his thumbs and forefingers, a gesture Kasumi felt like she’d seen somewhere before recently but could not exactly place, and then he nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “We can get rid of them all. The timing will have to be good, and we’re going to end up with security breathing down our necks, but… if it’s you guys, I think we can do it.”

There was so much faith and trust in such a simple statement that it nearly took her breath away; Kasumi stared at him for a long moment, and felt as though something fragile and warm and gentle was settling into her heart. Even after all of the times she hadn’t been able to support him, Akira still trusted her, didn’t he…? Or maybe it was more accurate to say that Joker trusted the Kasumi that wore a mask and a leotard, and could fight Shadows at his side. Either way, she was warmed by it, and she straightened.

“Okay,” she said firmly, nodding. “If that’s what you think, Joker-senpai… I’m here to do what I can too.”

A glance at Akechi revealed that even despite his mask, he still looked nonplussed; catching her looking at him, Akechi looked away sharply, frowning to himself.

“I’m not even going to pretend like I understand what you mean by that, Joker,” Akechi finally said. “But I am tired of being watched like this as well. If it means taking away this bastard’s vision, then I am prepared to do whatever it takes. They need to be taken down a few pegs off of their pearly throne.”

Akira propped his hands on his hips, looking them both over for a moment, before he grinned a little. “Even though it’s definitely going to bring security down on our heads?”

“I’d like to see them _try_ to stop us,” Akechi spat, and Kasumi giggled behind her hand and nodded.

“Even so,” she said, confirming Akechi’s words in her own way. “We’re ready to follow you. Just tell us what to do.”

“Alright,” Akira said, his smile softening a little as he looked at them. He beckoned both of them closer and lowered his tone as they huddled near a potted plant that looked too waxy to be real. “Here’s the plan.”

The plan, it turned out when he outlined it to them, was simple. They would climb as high as they could go, to get as close to the cameras as possible; there was no way they could shoot them from down here, and there was no easy escape plan on the ground. Akira would use his grappling hook to swing from one end of the room to the other, with the person in his arms sniping the cameras as they swung by. Any that were missed by Kasumi would be taken care of in the second swing by Akechi. They would have to be quick, though; undoubtedly, Palace security would be on them the moment the cameras suffered any sort of damage. As soon as Akira laid it out, he looked at Akechi, who immediately crossed his arms.

“Absolutely not. If it comes to being carried like some sort of damsel, I refuse.”

“I don’t think swinging with a Phantom Thief on a grappling hook is very damsel-like,” Kasumi muttered, expression mildly put out.

Both of them ignored her, and Akira’s grin promised trouble. “You don’t have a choice,” he said. “It’s part of the plan. You see, when I swing across, we’ll do an exchange--otherwise, Kasumi’s not going to have enough bullets to take down _all_ of the cameras, even metaphysical bullets. So we’ll swap, and then you can take down the ones she missed.”

“I already told you,” Akechi responded immediately, scowling. “I refuse.”

“What happened to wanting to take down ‘that bastard’s vision’? What about knocking them off of their ‘pearly throne’,” Akira asked with a quirked eyebrow. “Is that still a thing, or did you change your mind already?”

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Akechi snapped, but Kasumi could easily tell that he was weakening, if only because it was true: between continuing to be watched and taking down the cameras in any way necessary while still spiting the Palace ruler, Akechi was falling, if reluctantly, in the latter spiteful camp. Akira was the only one with a grappling hook as well, which meant this wasn’t just Akira poking fun at him either--though, Kasumi thought, looking at his grin, that didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying this either.

“I should be the one complaining,” Akira responded with an arched eyebrow, grin still in place. “Can I be sure you won’t stab me if you’re that close to my back, Crow?”

It was very obvious that Akira was joking from his tone alone, but something about that statement got to Akechi enough that he simmered down, if with an absolutely venomous look Akira’s way. Huffily, he muttered, “I am clearly not going to jeopardize our cooperation over something this stupid.”

“Good,” Akira said, clapping his hands together. “Then we have no problems. Let’s get this done.”

Kasumi raised a hand quietly. “Um, Senpai?”

Akira looked at her, tilting his head questioningly.

“You know I only have a handful of bullets, right? I don’t have enough to take down all of those cameras”

Both Akira and Akechi paused for a moment, looking up to clearly attempt to count the vast number of cameras above them. Then Akira just shrugged. “We’ll make it work, somehow.”

“How comforting,” Akechi muttered dryly, and Kasumi found that she couldn’t help but agree.

Even so, they had soon climbed to the highest perch they could find--a scant ledge along two digital displays on either side of the wall, both currently turned off--Kasumi and Akira on one side and Akechi on the other end of the room. Kasumi, despite the narrowness of their ledge, bounced on the balls of her feet as she prepared, dragging in a slow, deep breath.

Akira tilted his head at her. “Are you nervous?”

“Well…” Kasumi hesitated a moment, before she shrugged a little. If Akira already knew, there was no point in hiding it. “I suppose so. We only get one shot at this, right?”

“That’s true,” Akira said, nodding. “We probably won’t get another chance, if security shows up as fast as I’m sure they will. But it isn’t as though this is going to impact our ability to proceed. It’s not that important, really, even if I suggested it.”

“No, I suppose not,” she admitted. She was quiet for a moment, checking over her rifle as she tried to find the words to explain why this was so important in her mind. “But it makes you and Akechi-san uncomfortable to be watched like this. It makes me uncomfortable too, but the two of you… I feel like it’s even more important to both of you. I’m not sure why, or what you two have been through, but…”

She lifted her chin. “If the Palace ruler watching you both like this is so upsetting, I want to get this right. I want to stop him from being able to do so, with my own hands.”

Akira stared at her for a moment, a funny half-smile on his face, before he nodded quietly, leaning back against the wall behind them for a moment, still balanced on the balls of his feet on the thin ledge. “... Remind me when we get out of here tonight, and we can talk a little bit about why we’re both on edge from all of this.”

“Are you sure?” Kasumi asked, eyes wide, and Akira didn’t hesitate to nod in response.

“You’re a part of this team, so you deserve to know a bit more what you’re dealing with and why we’re… well, kind of worn thin by the whole situation,” Akira responded firmly. “After tonight’s infiltration… we’ll talk then. Is that okay?”

“Mm, yes, of course!” Kasumi was quick to say, smile bright. “I’ll be looking forward to it, Senpai. But for now… I think Akechi-san is waiting for us. Shall we give the plan a try?”

Akira flexed his wrist, testing the grip on his grappling hook, before he nodded and bowed--as best he could, anyway, still balanced precariously on their shared ledge. He offered her a hand.

“Whenever you’re ready, Kasumi.”

Kasumi hummed to herself cheerfully, and then reached out to take his hand, resting her fingertips lightly on his palm, and he seized her hand to tug her flush against him. There was no time to feel embarrassed, but even so, she felt her heart skip a beat. She ignored it determinedly.

“Ready, Senpai,” she said, smiling up at him. “Let’s do this.”

Akira flashed her a sharp glimpse of a grin at that, before he turned his attention to the ceiling of cameras they would have to take down. He sighted his spot--one of the largest cameras, a place where he could likely snag the base with his grappling hook and it would be able to support their weight--and then he murmured for Kasumi’s ear alone, “Here we go.”

With that, he lifted his arm, firing off the grappling hook, and then they were flying.

It wasn’t the first time Akira had used his grappling hook to allow them to progress further in the Palace, but it was the first time it was like this--they swung out into nothing but air together, and Kasumi only had a moment to admire the feeling of the wind in her face, of the sheer depth of the drop before she had to get to work.

They swung, and Kasumi whipped out her rifle hastily, taking aim as best she could even as they moved. But as Akira and Akechi had explained once, the guns were cognitive first and foremost. They were models, and the bullets were only in their heads. What Kasumi took from that is that if she truly believed she could hit these cameras as they swung past them?

They would _hit_.

She took aim and she fired, and she didn’t stop firing until there was nothing left. After the first shot, the alarms around them began to blare, but she ignored them fiercely; now wasn’t the time to lose her concentration. She’d done well, she could tell already just from that, but not _enough_ ; Kasumi huffed, tossed her gun away, and reached into Akira’s jacket to snag out his handgun. The weight of this gun was different, and it fired differently as well--even so, Kasumi lifted it, took aim, and fired off as many shots as she could, shattering the lenses of those accusing cameras one after another. His arm tightened around her, but he didn’t say a word; even so, she could see a grin on his face and knew that the thrill appealed to him more than anything.

And then they were there, settling on the ledge on the other side of their flight, Kasumi’s hair rumpled and her expression exhilarated. She looked back, spying a few unbroken lenses amidst the sea of gaping, shattered blackness now lining the ceiling, and quickly danced out of Akira’s grip so that Akechi, reluctant and exasperated, could take her place. Akira made an amused face at the reluctance, muttering something she couldn’t hear to Akechi as he dragged him closer; his response was an elbow to the gut, something that Kasumi noted with a faint snort of amusement.

There was no time to waste, though. The alarms were bringing reinforcements to their position quickly, and so without another word of protest or ribbing, Akira once again made his leap. Akechi’s job was both easier and more difficult than hers had been; the amount of cameras that he needed to shoot down was much less, and Kasumi felt a flush of pride at how many she’d taken out. At the same time, it meant his shots had to be far more precise and calculated--something that he seemed to have no issue with, taking out the remainder shot by tidy shot as Akira swung them both to the other side.

Watching the shattered lens of the glass fall around them, reflecting the light in a multi-colored spectrum, Kasumi couldn’t help but find the destruction beautiful; it was almost like shattered stained glass as it tumbled through the air and then hit the ground, joining the thin layer of sharp, dangerously broken shards that lined the floor. It had livened up the sterile deadness of their surroundings, and she almost felt entranced.

Then Kasumi was roused by her thoughts as the Shadows arrived, all of them trampling the glass beneath their feet as they yelled. From their perches, the trio was, for the moment, safe--but much to her shock, one of the Shadows began to clamber up the wall, the wall morphing to give it easy handholds for its ascent.

“Uh, Senpai…?” she called out, voice pitched a little higher than she would have liked, betraying her alarm.

Akira and Akechi had only just made it to the other side, but they both whipped around at her call; Akira frowned, and then immediately began to cast around for a proper escape route.

Kasumi shifted her gaze back to the Shadows. One had gotten close enough to reach for her, and immediately, Kasumi shifted, perched carefully on the ball of one foot on her narrow ledge to kick down into its face with her other heel. It fell back immediately, falling to land on its back on the ground with a heavy thud, where it dissipated into nothingness. Still, there were more Shadows clambering up where it had been before, and Kasumi was not in the best sort of position to fend them off.

Carefully, she inched back away from them, though there was nowhere for her to truly go.

“Kasumi!”

She looked over sharply at her name, only to see Akira pointing up--and when she looked up, she could see the path he saw through the cameras, something they would never have been able to spy before they destroyed them. But through a gap in the remaining now non-functional cameras, the white ceiling opened up to show a rickety, small walkway leading into the darkness, as if for maintenance on exactly those cameras. As an escape route, it was perfect… except for the fact that there was absolutely no way Kasumi could get there on her own.

She opened her mouth to say so, and then yelped at the feeling of a cold, clammy and lifeless Shadow hand grasping at her ankle. Immediately, Kasumi yanked out her sword, stabbing at the hand in a jerky, panicked motion, and the Shadow hissed angrily and reeled back. But it was lunging for her again far too quickly, and she edged even closer to the very edge of the ledge she was on. She was out of room. There was nowhere else she could go.

“Yoshizawa-san!”

Akechi’s voice was sharp enough that Kasumi had to look over despite the Shadows. What she saw made her pause despite herself. Akira carefully lined up his shot, making sure he would be able to snag that walkway with his grappling hook, while Akechi held onto his waist with one arm, the other hand outstretched.

“When we get close enough, _jump_.”

Kasumi stared at him, lips parted. No matter how she looked at it, that was…

“I know it is an absolutely hairbrained plan,” Akechi spat out, “But we don’t have many options! Either jump or die, but make your decision!” 

Somehow, it was his acknowledgement of just that that settled her. It _was_ crazy, but Akira’s words came back to her in just that moment.

 _If it’s you guys, I think we can do it_.

Kasumi took a deep breath, and murmured to herself, “Me too, Senpai.”

Akira jumped, firing off the grappling hook, and as they swung towards the middle of the cameras, right before they began to rise--Kasumi flung herself forward, a Shadow’s grasping hand catching only air in her wake where her foot had been a moment before. For a moment, she hung in midair, and could see everything. From below, the glass shards still glimmered in the harsh light of the Palace, and the many Shadows swarming over them only added to the contrast of light and inky darkness.

It glittered, she thought almost distantly. Like a proper palace out of some sort of fairy tale.

And then her outstretched hand met another, Akechi’s fingers digging into her arm almost painfully with how sharp the edges of his gloves were, and her descent was stopped with a sudden jerk. She dangled from his hand, but his grip was steady and unyielding, and then they were moving up again, Akira’s grappling hook yanking them up and out of danger. All three of them scrambled up onto the metal pathway above without much in the way of grace but with a great _deal_ of relief, and then they remained there, flopped on the cool metal.

Kasumi breathed out wonderingly, almost to herself, “You caught me…”

“Don’t expect me to make a habit of it,” Akechi responded, but he was too out of breath to sound particularly harsh about it, and Kasumi’s lips quirked into a smile despite herself.

“Can we not bicker after all of that? I think we’ve earned a few moments of niceness, even if we’re pretending,” Akira interjected breathlessly, and that was the end of that. But Kasumi could still feel the sharp gouges in her wrist from Akechi’s gloves and knew that it was proof that when her life had been on the line, Akira and Akechi had both been there for her, reaching out to her to catch her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're making a bit of progress on the trio's relationship now--in a sense. I got a little too enthusiastic about their Palace run for Jan 5th, so this chapter is split in half to keep it from being _too_ terribly long. The rest of 1/5 to come next week!
> 
> Thanks for reading! ♥


	5. 1/5 - Part Two

By the time Kasumi, Akira and Akechi got up to continue, their breathlessness had passed, but the giddiness from their near-death escape lingered. They progressed down the new path they had found for themselves, a thin, metal catwalk, narrow and rickety, with easy confidence; despite what they had just experienced, even a catwalk more narrow than Kasumi’s shoulders was plenty wide enough for them to walk with confidence.

“Did you know this was up here, Joker?” Akechi asked, breaking the silence casually.

They walked in single-file, Akira leading and Akechi in the back, which meant Kasumi could see the way Akira tilted his head a little in response to the question. “Not exactly,” he responded, eyes straight ahead.

“I ask,” Akechi continued, “because it seems awfully convenient that a hairbrained plan that was initially, as far as I could tell, simply to inform the Palace ruler just what we think of him in no uncertain terms actually ended up yielding a path forward.”

Akira hummed noncommittally in response. “Yeah, that does seem pretty convenient, doesn’t it?”

From behind her, Kasumi could hear the creak of leather and sharp metal as Akechi’s hands clenched into fists.

“Um, Senpai,” she began to interject, before Akira just looked over his shoulder, flashing both of them a grin.

“Sorry, Crow,” he said, sounding not at all sorry. “There are a couple of tricks I have that I’d like to keep up my sleeve for now.”

Akechi still looked put-out, but now that he didn’t also look murderous, it was almost an endearing look on him, Kasumi couldn’t help but think. Perhaps it was the rarity of the expression; the only person who seemed to be able to regularly knock Akechi off of his game was Akira. It went both ways, didn’t it, though? In the same way, Akechi was constantly dragging new expressions and responses out of her senpai that Kasumi had never seen before.

After this infiltration, she reminded herself. Akira had promised to explain more then--so she could ask about their relationship then as well.

“But,” Akira continued, his hands tucked into his coat pockets casually as he walked along the catwalk, “it’s true that the original motivation was exactly what you thought it was. I really did just want to get the cameras off of us, and I wasn’t feeling too polite towards this Palace’s not-too-benevolent overlord.”

Kasumi tilted her head, nimbly avoiding a gap in the catwalk floor almost instinctively. “So you didn’t know this path was here?”

“Nope,” Akira said, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word for emphasis. “I wanted to see how the Palace ruler would react, and I thought it might help us all to blow off some steam. But I didn’t see this path until you’d shot down a few of the cameras.”

Kasumi froze in place so suddenly that Akechi nearly bumped into her; at his muttered curse, she stammered out, “You saw it _then_? When we were swinging across so quickly?”

“Yep,” came the easygoing response, Akira also stopping and turning to face both of them. “I guess you could call it a bit of a talent. I’m pretty good at… seeing things that are meant to be hidden in places like this.”

Akechi made a contemplative noise. “Knowing you, there’s more to what you’re saying, but I suppose I will give you those secrets for now. I don’t want to give you the satisfaction of continuing to pry, regardless.”

Akira grinned at that, but he didn’t deny that he would’ve found it amusing. Kasumi, for her part, just shook her head more, expression baffled.

“Senpai… you’re so skilled! It’s almost as though being a Phantom Thief was your calling.”

Akira huffed out a laugh at that. “Sadly, it’s not the sort of thing I can put on a resume, but thanks anyway. I do what I can.”

“While we are here shooting the breeze,” Akechi interjected, tone bland, “does our _mighty_ Phantom Thief leader have any idea where this path even leads?”

Akira snorted softly at that. “Not at all,” he said, far too calmly.

It wasn’t anything too terribly different from how they’d been approaching the Palace thus far if Kasumi was honest; if the path led forward, they took it, and if they ran into a dead end, they turned back. It wasn’t the most efficient method, but as Akira had told her early on, without a Navigator or a proper map, they couldn’t do much more. So this was par for the course as far as she was concerned. Akechi seemed to come to the same conclusion; he looked a little sour about that answer, but couldn’t argue it.

Still, Akira seemed to feel the need to explain himself at least a little. “I think this path’s a little more promising, though.”

Kasumi blinked a little. “Why do you think that, Senpai?”

As far as she could tell, this was more of the same, if much higher up than most of their Palace trawling. But Akira demonstrated his point by stomping down on the catwalk beneath them. It was fragile and rickety enough to shake beneath them in response, and Kasumi clutched at the railing hastily.

“Senpai!” she huffed out, and he flashed her a grin that was more amused than apologetic.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just… take a look at this path. Take a look around us. Do you see anything missing?”

Obediently, she began to look around, brow furrowed. Now that she did, it was clear that they were in the metaphorical guts of the building--or its backstage. The entire area was shadowy and poorly lit, and wires hung down from above like reaching, grasping vines. The walls were concrete, and beneath them, they occasionally passed by other cameras, all of them pointed down at the ground far below. Even so…

“Something missing…?” she echoed, brow furrowing a little.

Akechi snorted softly under his breath, though whether at the question or her own slowness to understand Kasumi wasn’t sure, and answered simply, “The color white. Everything we’ve passed by so far before now has had the veneer of whiteness.”

“Right,” Akira said with a firm nod. “But this… it’s just metal and concrete and wires. I think maybe the Palace ruler’s cognition is weaker here; it’s part of their Palace that they don’t think about as much, or maybe aren’t even aware of.”

“So you think we can progress easier up here because of that…?” Kasumi asked, finally catching up with the conversation. She was pleased by the way they both nodded, Akira smiling encouragingly at her and Akechi, at least, not seeming too terribly exasperated. Finally, she was starting to _get_ this cognitive nonsense…! “That’s really great news, isn’t it? We can finally really make some real progress!”

“That’s true,” Akira said, though he lifted a hand to his chin contemplatively as he turned on his heel to begin walking again. “But we’re going to have to make really good use of it. Our little stunt taught us something else, too.”

Akechi sighed, pressing a clawed hand to his mask. “Right. Of course. It confirmed that this Palace’s ruler is quite paranoid. The security that arrived in response to how we broke those cameras was very overblown.”

Kasumi, remembering the inky cold touch of one of the Shadows that had tried to yank her down from her perch, so many other Shadows following its path up the wall, shuddered and nodded, her hands coming up to rub her arms. “Yes… that is true. They didn’t seem very happy with us for it.”

Akira paused to test a particularly rusted portion of the catwalk with the toe of his boot. Then he hummed quietly, continuing, “So if they figure out this is where we went, I’m sure we’ll find more security up here next time. Let’s get as far as we can and then ditch the catwalk. It can be our secret weapon if they don’t realize we’re using it to get around.”

“You won’t hear any objections from me, sans one,” Akechi said, idly dragging a clawed finger along the railing as they walked. The low screech put Kasumi’s nerves on end, but not enough for her to call it out. “How will we know when we’re ‘as far as we can’ be, exactly?”

Akira paused for a moment, considering that. Then he shrugged easily. “I’ll know it when I see it,” he said casually, before he continued striding forward.

Kasumi glanced back at Akechi, noted his irritated expression, and immediately began to trot after Akira hastily.

“Honestly,” he muttered from behind her, just loudly enough for Akira to hear. “It is a marvel the Phantom Thieves accomplished anything with you as their leader. All of this nonsense about hunches and feelings and hoping for the best is aggravating beyond belief.”

Akira definitely heard it; he snorted under his breath, and tossed carelessly over his shoulder, “It seemed to have worked pretty well for us. We made it through every Palace we came across. Maybe you just need to learn how to adapt.”

Kasumi rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, taking a few moments to try to find patience, and then interjected, “Senpai, Akechi-san, I think you’re both very good at what you do. Without each of you, I don’t think we’d ever have made it this far, so…!”

Akira glanced over his shoulder at her, a grin flickering on his face that made it very plain he knew what she was trying to do, while from behind her, Akechi just huffed. But they weren’t arguing anymore, and that was good enough for her. She was starting to get used to the fact that they were almost always batting words back and forth, and sometimes it felt more like friendly fire than anything actually intended to hurt, with an emphasis on the friendly. But that didn’t mean she wanted to listen to it _all the time_.

So they progressed in silence for a time, Kasumi listening to the quiet of nothing but the click of their heels on the metal catwalk. It gave her a chance to really look around now that she wasn’t being distracted by her companions. The walls around them remained nondescript concrete as they were before, though Kasumi spied a few posters pasted on them. It was too dark up here to read them, their only source of light coming from a few out of date fluorescent lights hanging from above. A few of them were burned out, as if this place was hardly even maintained.

Akira was right. If they kept this pathway and their knowledge of it a secret, they could probably use it to make a great deal of progress, and to make any emergency escapes they needed to in the future. It would make their progress back through the Palace quicker too; really, this was a windfall it felt like they’d needed.

She cast her gaze over the railing fearlessly next. Kasumi had never been afraid of heights and falling was a foreign concept to her; she was poised and confident enough in her own grace to know that she wasn’t going to slip. Down below, the same white tile floor and white walls greeted her; it was like night and day. Every now and then, a Shadow in a lab coat walked by, inspecting its clipboard silently. Was there anything even written on those clipboards? She couldn’t help but wonder as she watched them at work.

“Found it.” Akira’s voice was calm and certain as he lifted a hand to pause their odd procession, and Kasumi peered around him curiously. It all looked the same to her, and her bemusement must have shown, whether through her silence or the look on her face. “Look over there.”

He lifted a gloved hand to direct her gaze to a small grate in the wall, one that clearly led to some sort of internal vent system. She never would’ve noticed it if he hadn’t pointed it out, not with the way it blended into the bland greys of the walls in the dim lighting, and again, Kasumi wondered just how sharp his eyes were--not that it mattered, she supposed. From the catwalk railing, it would be a tricky leap, but a doable one, she thought as she inspected the gap critically.

“Shall we jump for it?” she asked, propping a hand on her hip.

From behind, Akechi sighed in clear aggravation. “Once again, how do you _know_ that that grate will lead us anywhere?”

Akira turned to face Akechi, eyes gleaming nearly gold in the darkness for a moment, and flashed him a grin. Kasumi blinked, shaking her head a little, and Akira’s eyes were his usual grey once again, shadowed by his mask. Was she seeing things now…?

“It’s a hunch again,” Akira said, grin firm on his face, and Akechi narrowed his eyes at him in response, lips pressed together tightly in a firm line.

“I think it’s worth a try,” Kasumi piped up. Under the flat stare Akechi leveled her way, she admitted quietly, “I… can’t really explain why, but… it feels like that’s the right way to go. Maybe because it won’t be easy to get to it…?”

“The more difficult path promises a greater reward, is that it?” Akechi asked, but now he had a hand at his chin, tone more contemplative than irritated. “I suppose there is some merit to that. If this ends up being a huge waste of all of our time, however, I will not be pleased with either of you.”

Akira snorted and muttered a soft, “As if you ever _are_ pleased with us,” which Akechi chose to ignore as he turned to instead inspect the distance as well.

“It won’t be an easy jump at all,” he said, leaning against the railing to see just how sturdy it was. It creaked under his hand in a way that was not particularly reassuring.

Akira spoke up then, adjusting his grappling hook. “I’ll go first. I can at least get the grate off. Unless you’d like me to carry one of you across with me…?”

It was obvious by his arched eyebrows that he was joking, but Akechi shoved at him anyway, eyes narrowed. “Get on with it, Joker. Stop wasting our time. Yoshizawa and I can both make the jump fine.”

Kasumi’s lips twitched into a small smile, one she hid quickly behind a hand. No sense in letting them know that sometimes she enjoyed their antics more than she wanted to, or that she appreciated Akechi’s words more than he would like her to. 

Akira hopped up neatly to perch on the top of the railing on the balls of his feet, searching for a good point to aim for with his grappling hook. Once he found one, he fired it off easily, swinging across the gap and hanging there for a brief moment to tug at the grating with his fingers. When it refused to budge, rust and screws alike rendering it tougher than he expected, Akira’s brow furrowed.

It didn’t stop him for long, though; Akira planted both boots on the wall, took a deep breath, and shoved off of it. He swung back with the force of his shove, and then, pendulum-like, back at the grate--which he aimed for fiercely, his legs straight and heel first. With the force of his swing behind him, Akira kicked in the grate easily, the clatter of it all far too loud in the quiet. Akira crouched in the duct for a moment, head cocked as he listened for any sort of pursuit. After a few breathless moments, he shook his head and flashed the both of them a thumbs up, before he moved back to give them space to attempt the jump.

Kasumi glanced over at Akechi.

“After you, Yoshizawa-san,” he said, surprisingly without much of a hint of mockery at all; in her startlement, all Kasumi could do was nod stiffly in response and immediately turn to the railing. She hopped up onto it neatly, balancing carefully on the ball of her feet, much as Akira had before. Her heels were a bit taller to content with, and from here, the gap was quite wide. The goal, likewise, was a small, narrow passage--this would be a tricky jump for anyone to make.

But Kasumi, staring at the gap with a fiercely serious stare, knew she could make it.

She took a deep breath, shifted into a crouch, and narrowed her focus to only her target. Her coach had taught her over and over and over--don’t think of falling. Don’t think of hitting the ground. Just focus on the moment in which she _flew_.

Maybe, Kasumi thought to herself, that’s what she’d been missing all of this time, when she hadn’t been competing at her best. She’d forgotten what it felt like to soar.

With that last thought, Kasumi launched herself through the air.

She’d judged the jump beautifully, Kasumi knew that immediately; she soared through the air neatly, reached out for the small entry into the duct system and then tucked and rolled as she landed, springing up into a neat crouch just past where Akira had pushed himself against the wall to give her space.

“Nicely done,” he murmured softly, and she flashed him a beaming smile, breathless and enthused and excited.

“It looks like you figured something out,” he said softly in response to that look. “Tell me later, okay? For now, let’s make sure Akechi makes it.”

Kasumi nodded quietly, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart and she moved back to give Akechi more space, peering out the vent at where he was carefully crouched on the railing. Akechi was a detective, wasn’t he…? In truth, Kasumi wasn’t even sure if that was real or not at this point. But either way, if he wasn’t a Phantom Thief, and he wasn’t a gymnast like her, then…

“Will he be--”

Before she could finish her thought, Akechi jumped. It may have lacked a little bit of the natural grace that Akira’s jump had telegraphed, but nonetheless he made the gap easily, landing heavily but tidily in the vent itself.

“Yep,” Akira said in response to Kasumi’s unfinished question. “He’s been doing this for a long time.”

Akechi looked between them, and then jerked his head towards the duct. “Let’s get this part over with. I hardly enjoy crawling around in these.”

Akira took his cue and began to lead. Kasumi followed after him and had to focus on carefully avoiding placing her hands on his trailing coattails. She wondered if Akechi had to do the same with her own, and the image of Akechi having to carefully place his clawed hands around her coattails got her to giggle under her breath despite herself.

“You are easily pleased,” Akechi muttered from behind her grumpily, and Kasumi just hummed a noncommittal response, stifling any further laughter. It wasn’t as though he would think her actual reason for laughing was any less ridiculous if she told him, after all.

They crawled for only a few minutes more before Akira said, “Be careful, you two. It’s getting much darker. I can’t see--”

That final word morphed into a softly surprised noise, really little more than an exhaled breath, and the rustle of fabric, and Kasumi squinted in the darkness to try to see what had happened.

“Senpai…? Senpai, are you there?”

She reached out, beginning to edge her way forward with an arm outstretched as if to try to find his familiar leather coat.

“Yoshizawa-san, wait--!”

Akechi’s warning was a moment too late; she reached out too far, placed her other hand on nothing but air, and with a yelp she was falling into the darkness. Automatically, she twisted to right herself in midair, and when she was suddenly dumped into blinding brightness, she landed in a crouch. Kasumi lifted a hand to try to shield her eyes from the lights, squinting.

“It’s bright, isn’t it?” Akira was a few paces away, a little rumpled but none the worse for wear. He jerked a thumb up towards the rectangular hole in the ceiling they’d dropped through. “Looks like we found where that particular vent connects to.”

Kasumi stood slowly, brushing herself off. She peered around curiously. The reason it had seemed so blindingly bright, now that her eyes adjusted, was simply because they were back in the same aesthetic she’d been so relieved to leave behind before. The white walls and white tile reflected the glare of the harsh lights above them, and Kasumi sighed quietly as she realized it. Something about the combination was so soul-crushing, and she wasn’t exactly thrilled to be right back in the thick of it. Still, there was something different about _this_ area, something she couldn’t miss even for a moment.

“Crow!” Akira’s hands were cupped around his mouth as he called up at the vent, “Get a move on already! We’re both fine, so you can just jump down!”

A few moments later and Akechi dropped down from the hole as well, landing neatly on the ground. He scowled at Akira. “Well, pardon me for being even a shred more cautious than either of you is.”

Akira grinned a little, lifting his hands placatingly. “It all worked out fine, didn’t it? We’re definitely somewhere new. For starters, take a look at this door.”

It was the same door that had caught Kasumi’s eye nearly immediately. Rather than a regular, nondescript white door, this one was metal and imposing, with a nameplate on it near the top that for some odd reason, Kasumi couldn’t quite read it; trying to made her head throb, and she winced, one eye shutting.

The aesthetic of it was distinct, and Kasumi tried to place it for a moment, before Akechi answered for her.

“Ah,” he said. “A locked laboratory door. Of course.”

Akira took a step towards it, one hand on his hip. “This looks pretty different from anything we’ve seen so far. I wonder what--”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before the Shadow guarding the door, previously hidden, slammed into him with enough force to send him tumbling. He landed in a sprawled heap and didn’t move, and Kasumi’s heart froze in her chest.

“ _Joker_!”

“ _Joker-senpai_!”

Their calls were nearly in unison, but Akechi snapped into action faster than she did; when the Shadow charged for Akira’s prone form again, he skidded in between, sword raised to fend it up.

“Yoshizawa-san!” he snapped, catching its clawed inky hands on his blade. “The mask!”

Kasumi moved immediately, Akechi’s words spurring her on. “Right!” she said breathlessly, and before she could think about it too hard, she was off, sprinting at the Shadow. Kasumi had never done this before, no. But she had seen Akira do it time and time again, and now, when her senpai was in danger and Akechi was snarling as he counted on _her_ to do it right, there was no time to hesitate.

She sprang into the air neatly, flipped forward and landed on the Shadow’s shoulders tidily, eyes narrowed as she reached for its mask with single-minded determination. It reared as soon as it felt her on its shoulders, trying to fling her off, but Kasumi’s balance was steady as she dug her fingers in as strongly as she could and _yanked_.

“You can’t hide behind this mask any longer!” she snapped out, and then she ripped it off.

She was able to spring off before the Shadow melted into nothingness beneath her, flipping backwards with her arms outstretched and legs pointed, until she landed neatly, back straight. Breathlessly, Kasumi had a moment to think that that had actually been quite a tidy back salto, before the Shadow morphed into its proper form.

The black tentacle monster--Kasumi knew of no other way to put it--was incredibly unnerving, something she had yet to see in this Palace and something with an extremely foreboding air. She stared at it, eyes wide. In her chest, her heart thumped against her ribcage in a panicked pattern, one that told her immediately and instinctively that this Shadow was bad news.

Still, when it immediately turned towards the other two, Kasumi’s face set into a firm, unyielding expression. Akechi was at Akira’s side, a hand outstretched to nudge at his shoulder, and in no position to fight. In a way… wasn’t he trusting his back to her? Perhaps he didn’t trust her except in moments of sheer necessity, but nonetheless he was trusting her now, and Kasumi refused to let him down.

“Cendrillon, let’s go!” she called out, hand outstretched. “I am your opponent, so face me with everything you have!”

Cendrillon appeared at her beckoning, glittering in the harsh fluorescent lighting, and with a twirl that left glimmers of blue spinning along the floors and the walls, she cast her spell. The Kougaon hit true, and the Hastur--though Kasumi was unaware that was what it was--let out an unholy shrieking noise as it flailed back. It hadn’t struck at a weakness--the Shadow remained upright--but it nonetheless didn’t seem to care for the light. It turned to her with a few hissed words in a language Kasumi did not understand, but nonetheless felt a shudder go down her spine in response to.

She was the threat now. Good, that was what she had wanted. If she could buy Akechi and Akira some time, Kasumi knew that they would be there at her side soon enough, just as they had for so many fights. Until then? She was determined to fight with all she had.

The Shadow moved at her with a swiftness she wasn’t expecting; it was only some fancy footwork that saved her from the majority of its tentacles’ swipes. One clipped her shoulder, sending her stumbling--but then Kasumi tucked and rolled away, springing back up to her feet with her eyes narrowed. She whirled to face it, hand immediately at her mask again, and the magic Cendrillon launched at the Shadow knocked it aside once more.

“I won’t allow anything to happen to my companions,” she said, lifting her sword. “Not now that I have the strength to prevent it!”

The Shadow spat angry, sinister words at her in return, but Kasumi stood her ground even so. When it lunged for her again, she was ready; she planted her feet and parried the tentacles away with her blade, each strike stroke enough to reverberate through her hand and up her arm.

But she was stronger now. She’d been protected, coddled, and assisted this whole time--but she _liked_ her comrades. She liked Akira, even with the rough patches they’d faced. She liked his kindness, his cocky attitude as Joker, and the way that he was always so ready to do what was right. She liked Akechi too--the Akechi who was a kind Detective Prince, but also the real Akechi beneath it, the one who snapped at her but always told her the truth, the one who would save her life by reaching out to her no matter how often he scoffed at her.

These were people she wanted to protect.

Kasumi lunged forward again, sword raised. The Shadow retaliated, swinging a heavy tentacle her way, and neatly she ducked and twirled, allowing her momentum to carry her forward. It was strange. It was in moments like this, where it was life or death, where her every action could spell her own doom that Kasumi was most reminded of her competitions. Perhaps it was ridiculous to think when facing down an eldritch abomination that wanted to do nothing more than reduce her to paste. But even so…

She had to step just so, careful and practiced. Elegance, poise and caution in equal measure would bring her to victory. In her hand, she held the metal hilt of a sword, not an apparatus, but her wrist was still angled the same, her grip just as firm and it was all so familiar.

Kasumi stepped around its flailing limbs, ducked its fierce retaliations, and sliced straight through one of its tentacles with a flick of her wrist. A backflip brought her out of its range as it shrieked, black ooze splattering from the severed limb and her rapier alike. Aside from giving it a flick to get rid of the worst of it, Kasumi didn’t spare it a second glance. Her eyes remained on her opponent, wary and focused. The Shadow looked at its missing tentacle, snarled something guttural at her, and immediately decided she was too much trouble; it turned away to face Akechi and Akira instead. Akira was on his feet now, but he still listed to one side a little, clearly still dazed from the unexpected blow he’d taken and favoring one leg, and Kasumi reacted before she could even begin to think, moving forward recklessly.

She had to protect them. _She had to_.

Two strides forward brought her to the Shadow. One more lunge and her sword sliced into the body of the creature, buried to the hilt. The Shadow snarled, but it did not fall; instead, it turned to face her sharply enough that it yanked her sword from her grasp. Kasumi shifted to step back, her eyes wide, but it was too late.

From behind the Shadow, and above, and around Kasumi, eyes appeared, as if torn into the very fabric of the air around her. They stared at her, pinning her down under their cold, impartial gazes, and Kasumi felt the hair at the back of her neck stand on end. She stumbled back, and another step, heels clicking against the tile beneath her--but she couldn’t escape their stare now. She didn’t have her sword, and with her hands empty at her sides, she felt eerily defenseless. But Kasumi did have her Persona. She wasn’t totally helpless, she just needed to _reach_ \--

The blast of Almighty energy was unlike Kasumi had ever experienced before. She’d taken blows from claws and teeth and blades alike, had been scorched and frozen and felt the jolt of paralysis run straight through her body. But this… it burned through every inch of her, down to the very tips of her fingers, and Kasumi hadn’t realized she lost her feet until she hit the ground. The tile beneath her cheek was cool, the only thing she could feel at this point beyond pain, and it lulled her towards just allowing herself to _rest_. What was she fighting so hard for? Wouldn’t it be okay for her to rest for just a moment?

Her eyelids fluttered.

Strangely, at a time like this, her mind drifted towards her sister. She’d promised to be strong for her as well. To make both of their dreams come true. That was her responsibility as the older sibling. Everything hurt, but surely her sister had been in such pain before too. This couldn’t be enough--

 _Sumire_.

The voice echoed clear and crystalline in her brain. Her thoughts were muddled and fuzzy, though, and her brow furrowed a little. Yes… her little sister. She was thinking about her, but what--

_Get up._

Right. That was what she needed to do. She needed to get up. 

Kasumi dragged in a shuddering breath, eyes fluttering open once more. It took a monumental effort to turn her head, and when she did, there the Shadow was, towering over her with its unnerving lack of a face. Get up, she whispered to herself. Get up and fight.

Against the tile, her fingers twitched.

There was the report of a gunshot, the echo loud enough to be heard even over Kasumi’s own heartbeat in her ears. The bullet seemed to ricochet off of its skin, but even so, the Shadow snapped around, turning away from her with another hissed, sinister-sounding word that she could not understand.

“Hey, Warped Abyss or whatever you actually are! I’ll take you on, you Cthulhu-wannabe!” Akira’s voice, too, rang out loud and clear--enough so that Kasumi could hear it plainly. Or maybe the ringing in her ears was finally dissipating…?

She lifted her head with some effort, slowly pushing herself up on her forearm despite how her body screamed at her to stop. Not now, she whispered back to herself fiercely. It wasn’t time to rest just yet.

The Shadow launched a nasty Garudyne Akira’s way, but he was, at least, prepared for it; Kasumi watched as he neatly sprung away. Her breath caught in her throat when he landed, though, and stumbled on the leg he was still favoring, hissing out a pained and irritated breath. It was the only opening the Shadow needed; it screeched as it rushed forward, swinging its tentacles forward as if to use them to mash the pesky Phantom Thief before it into a pulp. Akira winced, lifting an arm over his head as if that would protect him while he tried to get his leg to cooperate, and Kasumi reached out a hand with a desperate, “ _Senpai_ \--!”

“You are both absolute _idiots_!” Akechi snapped out, even as he lunged forward, slamming a shoulder into Akira’s side and sending him tumbling right out of the range of those tentacles. Kasumi winced a little at how Akira hit the ground again in a heap of limbs, but better that than dead, she supposed.

Nimbly, Akechi sprang backwards to avoid the tentacles himself, before he lifted his chin to inspect the Shadow with a sneer. “Since my companions are both stupid beyond belief, I suppose I am your opponent now.”

The Shadow spat sinister words at him, and Akechi laughed, a noise that was almost gleeful. “Do you think you _frighten_ me? Please! I’ve encountered _much_ scarier than you. _I_ was scarier than you.”

He stepped forward with a stride that was almost casual, sword held equally casually at his side, and for a moment, Kasumi almost fancied that the Shadow wavered. But then it lunged forward with its lurching, jerky motions belying its actual, dangerous speed. Akechi met it head on, knocking a tentacle away with his jagged blade, clawed fingers digging into another deeply enough to draw more of that strange, inky black substance.

For a long moment, Kasumi could do nothing but stare. She’d seen Akechi ferocious--he’d hardly been anything but in this entire Palace--but she was again confronted by how different he was like this. He _cackled_ as the black blood of the Shadow splattered across his face and gloves, head thrown back as if letting go like this was truly the time of his life. But like this, too, Akechi seemed to have absolutely no regard for his own well-being, and it was the way he was sent stumbling back when he was clipped by the monster’s flailing tentacles that snapped Kasumi back to herself.

When she looked around, Akira was stirring, slowly trying to push himself to his feet, which was a good sign. Still, Akechi was on his own, and Kasumi bit her lip as she pushed her aching body to her hands and knees. She had to help him. If only she could just convince her body to _get up_ \--

A tentacle slammed into Akechi’s gut, flinging him backwards with a grunt; he managed to keep his feet, but only barely as he staggered back, one arm wrapped around himself.

“Fine,” he wheezed out. “Enough… playing around… I’ll end this… myself.”

He didn’t have the breath to call out Loki’s name, but the Persona appeared nonetheless, hunched over Akechi as if sharing his wielder’s eagerness for blood. Akechi gestured, a clawed hand outstretched, and black darkness erupted beneath the Shadow--but only for a moment, before it was immediately reflected back Akechi’s way. He brushed it off easily, Loki’s natural resistances nullifying any danger, but when he lowered his arms from his face, his eyes were narrowed and any sort of grin was long gone.

The Shadow had no intentions of giving him more time to ponder what to do about its pesky resistances; it snarled at him once more, remaining tentacles all raising towards the sky. The light that gathered there in a sharply contrasted orb was too bright to look at, and Kasumi shielded her eyes with a hand as she fought with her body to stand.

“ _Crow_ \--!” she heard Akira yell, and then the Megidolaon slammed into the ground and washed over everything with a painfully blinding light.

When the spots in Kasumi’s eyes cleared enough for her to see again, it was to find Akechi still standing, even despite all of that. He coughed, swaying for a moment before he scowled at the Shadow.

“Enough,” he ground out, voice as rough as sandpaper. “I’m pissed you’re making me do this. I’m absolutely sick of your existence.”

Akira, still limping, moved to join Akechi, but he lifted a clawed hand to stop him. “No, no, Joker,” he said, tone deceptively light. A moment later it dropped again to little more than a growl. “This one’s _mine_ to send to hell.”

There was a flash, Akechi’s mask glowing for a moment and shifting into a shape Kasumi had never seen before, brief as the glimpse was. Then it was nothing but blue flames as Akechi lifted a hand to the sky. “Don’t think I’m doing this because I want to use you anymore,” he snarled, more to himself than anything else. “I just can’t let these goddamn idiots die like this. It’d be too pathetic to take.”

A breath in; he winced and clutched at his side, but continued fiercely nonetheless, “So come, Robin Hood! Take care of this bastard so we can _all_ be free of this eyesore!”

Kasumi had seen Akira swap Personas as easily as he’d shuffle a deck of cards, plucking out the one he needed as if it was that easy. But she’d had absolutely no idea that _Akechi_ could do the same, and as the white and gold figure appeared behind Akechi, standing tall in sharp contrast to Akechi’s almost-doubled over posture, she could only stare.

Robin Hood lifted its bow, and white, glimmering light erupted beneath the Shadow, just like what Cendrillon could do. Just as before, the creature shrieked in response to the light magic, hissing and cowering back away from it as if it burned. It was in pain now, that much was clear; it skittered to and fro, hissing an endless stream of guttural, evil-sounding words.

Akechi spat blood off to one side, and hissed out, “Again!”

Kasumi straightened into a crouch, her own eyes narrowed, and lifted a hand to her own mask, though her fingers trembled so much she could see them shaking in the corner of her eye. There was no way she could leave Akechi to handle this on his own.

“Cendrillon, help him!” she called out, and there was comfort in how her Persona appeared behind her, crystalline fingers on Kasumi’s shoulders with almost loving comfort.

From the other end of the room, she heard more than saw Akira laugh, a tense but energized sound, and then he called out, “We’ll help too! Sandalphon, let’s go!”

The consecutive strikes of light magic seared through the middle of the room, too blinding for any of the three to look at for more than a moment. Kasumi felt tears gather in her eyes just from trying, and ultimately she squeezed her eyes shut tightly, resolving to listen instead. The spell faded away, and all Kasumi could hear was her own heartbeat in her ears, and the ragged breathing of her companions. Then there was a quiet thud.

Carefully, she opened her eyes.

Akechi had fallen to his knees, breathing still ragged as he attempted to catch his breath despite how his ribs were clearly bothering him. Akira was already limping to his side, offering Akechi a rueful smile; Kasumi watched as Akechi scoffed in return at the offered hand, and breathed a sigh of relief as her shoulders slumped. They were going to be alright, weren’t they…? Somehow, they’d made it through.

But even so, this didn’t feel like a particularly amazing victory. The knowledge that a Shadow like that guarded the inner workings of this place was sobering in a way that left her cold. Were they even strong enough to handle this on their own?

She shifted until she was sitting, her legs tucked in front of her, and took a moment to just breathe. Her body still throbbed with pain--that attack she’d been hit with had been like nothing she’d ever experienced before--but Kasumi felt as though she was finally adjusting to the extent that she could start to consider standing up.

Slowly, she pushed herself onto the balls of her feet and tested it, trying to get her legs to stand. They wobbled beneath her, immediately complaining, and Kasumi sat back heavily again with a faint huff. Okay, maybe not yet, then, if that was what her legs preferred.

“Stay put,” Akira said to her with a faintly amused huff, even as he carefully led Akechi her way, one of Akechi’s arms over his shoulder for support. Akechi looked as though he was sucking on a lemon, but whatever Akira had said to get him to agree must have worked wonders, because he didn’t complain for a moment as they made their slow way to Kasumi’s side. When they properly made it there, he moved to lower Akechi to the ground, but Akechi tugged away first, unsteadily flopping to the ground on his own.

Akira shrugged a little to himself, settling himself on the ground with one leg outstretched--the one he’d been favoring, Kasumi noted--the other pulled up to his chest. Then he lifted a hand to his mask. Lakshmi appeared then, a familiar Persona for Akira to reach for when they needed healing, enough so that Kasumi knew her name plenty well. The healing light that settled over the three of them, too, was familiar and soothing, and Kasumi breathed out a slow sigh as the worst of her aches and throbbing pains were washed away.

Akechi sat up then, crossing his arms and studiously looking away from them, while Akira tested his leg by bending it carefully, and then less carefully so when the pain was gone.

“Alright,” he finally said, voice wry. “That could’ve probably gone better, but we’re all still alive and in one piece. You okay, Kasumi?”

“Mm.” Kasumi nodded, humming an assenting noise immediately. In all honesty, she still ached, but that was the last thing she felt like complaining about now. “I’m fine.”

“And you, Crow?”

Akechi waved that off immediately. “You healed our injuries. You should already be aware we’re both fine.”

Akira quirked an eyebrow at Akechi, but whatever he saw in his face, he didn’t press it. Kasumi was too tired to concern herself with the ongoing song and dance of their prior relationship, whatever it had been. Besides, there was something much more important to be said.

“Akechi-san, you were amazing!” There was nothing but sincere admiration in Kasumi’s voice as she planted her hands on her thighs and leaned forward. “You really took care of that Shadow all on your own.”

She dipped her head for a moment; Kasumi had wanted to be strong enough to take care of it herself, but in the end, all she’d managed was to end up on the ground once again. Once again, she’d reached for the top, and once again, she’d fallen short. “Without you, we really would have been in trouble.”

Akechi arched an eyebrow at her. “What are you talking about? You were doing fine on your own.”

Kasumi, taken off-guard, stared at him with her mouth slightly parted. “Eh…?”

“Don’t be an idiot about it,” he huffed. “You had that Shadow handled fine until it targeted our deadweight leader over there. That’s when you got sloppy, but I’m willing to not consider that your fault considering the circumstances.”

Akira winced a little, but took it with relatively good humor, unprotesting. Kasumi, for her part, just stared at Akechi, cheeks slightly flushed. Akechi looked away and crossed his arms, clearly not inclined to elaborate.

“He’s right, you know,” Akira interjected, draping an arm over his knee idly. “You did a good job handling that thing. The fact that we had to work together as a team to finish it off doesn’t mean you didn’t.”

“As a team…” Kasumi breathed out quietly, head dipped as she stared at her red gloves. She could still remember how certain she’d been when she’d told both Akechi and Akira that she didn’t agree with the Phantom Thieves because she didn’t think people should grow too reliant on others’ assistance. That felt as though it had been in another life entirely now, and yet…

“I think I was a little too hard on the Phantom Thieves before, Senpai,” Kasumi said weakly, tilting her head up to offer him an equally weak smile.

In response, Akira laughed. “You had a point, you know,” he said, before he smoothly got to his feet. He jumped up and down for a moment, testing his leg. When he was satisfied that all of the injuries had been satisfactorily healed, he offered a hand to each of them, a smile on his face.

“But there’s nothing wrong with leaning on people when you need it, too. It just makes all of us stronger in the end… so why fight it?”

Kasumi accepted that hand easily, and Akechi scowled at the hand offered to him. Under the weights of both of their stares, though, he ultimately just huffed out an irritated breath and took the other hand offered to him, allowing Joker to help pull them both to their feet. When they were all standing, he still didn’t let go of their hands, instead squeezing them in his own and looking at both Kasumi and Akechi seriously.

“We’re stronger together,” he said firmly. “And we’re going to make it through this Palace.”

Akechi yanked his hand away then, rolling his eyes with a grumbled, “Yes, we are and were already well aware of that without your cheesy lines, Joker.”

Kasumi, though, just smiled at the both of them brightly. There truly was a certain relief in the understanding that they had her back just as she had theirs, even when there were moments when she didn’t understand them or they couldn’t all get along. Even so, they were a team, and that counted for so much more than she’d ever expected it to.

“It was good to see Robin Hood again,” Akira said to Akechi conversationally as they walked towards the door they’d been trying to inspect before their interruption.

Akechi just crossed his arms. “Don’t get used to the idea,” he said grimly. “That’s the last you’re ever going to see of him.”

That was all that was said before they turned their attention to the metal door properly, and then they were both distracted by their next roadblock. Kasumi followed a few steps behind, though she stopped a few paces away from the door as well, her arms wrapping around herself. Something about it was still unnerving while she looked at it, but she couldn’t place what.

“No handles or locks to pick. It’s sealed up tightly,” Akechi muttered as he peered up at it, a hand at his chin contemplatively.

Akira ran a hand down it cautiously, frowning. “I don’t see any secret latches or keypads either.”

“Another biometric scan, then?” Akechi asked, propping his hand on his hip. “That’s going to be difficult if so.”

“Let’s see,” Akira responded, peering up at the nameplate Kasumi had noticed initially. From behind them, she breathed out a short breath of pain as another throb of pain shot through her head, and carefully she shook her head, raising a hand to press it against her temple. Again with this…? What was it about this _door_?

“Huh.” A surprised noise escaped Akira as he peered closer. “They’re ‘experiment numbers’. Experiment YS1003… Things like that.”

A pause, and then Akira said, “No, wait, now it says ‘patient’ instead of ‘experiment’... it seems like it’s shifting back and forth.”

Akechi’s brow furrowed at that, and he shifted his weight to one leg idly as he thought that information over. “To be frank, there isn’t a single explanation for that that I can think of that isn’t ominous in some way.”

Akira stepped back with a sigh, nodding. “Our Palace ruler is starting to sound like some twisted sort of person at this rate.”

Kasumi clutched at her head with both hands, eyes squeezed shut as the throbbing in her head grew worse. Carefully, staggeringly, she took a step back away from the door, and then another. The further away she got from it, the less her head throbbed; a few more steps and she was able to lift her head again, breathing raggedly.

“Regardless. That is relatively irrelevant,” Akechi said, eyeing the door with narrowed eyes. “The real concern is how to get the door open. If there isn’t a handle, or locks that can be picked, or a biometric scanner or any sort of keypad, then that leaves...”

“... It’s cognition, isn’t it?” Akira finally said, frowning tightly at the door. “We’re going to have to change the Palace ruler’s cognition to get this door to open.”

There was another long, ominous pause. Akechi stared at Akira.

“That’s...ridiculous,” he said tensely, his words wound tightly like a string about to snap. “It would be impossible to change the cognition of the Palace ruler when we do not even know who they are.”

Akira winced. “Look… I know it’s not going to be easy, but there has to be a way. It’s fine, we just have to find it--”

“No!” Akechi snarled suddenly, flinging himself forward to claw at the door. “I’m so _sick_ of living this goddamn cognitive _lie_ , under the thumb of this bastard! Enough _waiting_!” 

The sharp edges of his gloves screeched and scraped against the metal of the door that was now closed to them, but though he gouged deep cuts, the door did not budge.

“Akechi-san…” Kasumi murmured, eyes wide as she stared at him.

It was as if that reminded him that they were there with him; Akechi whirled to face them with a snarl, his teeth bared. Kasumi couldn’t help but flinch back, but Akira stepped forward, his hands tucked into his pockets and his expression and body language both casual. He didn’t hesitate, walking right up to stand before Akechi, and then he tugged a hand out of his pocket to rest it on Akechi’s shoulder.

Akechi flinched, tense and wary, and Kasumi tensed as well, barely daring to breathe. But then it was as if the fight drained out of him, and his shoulders slumped as Akira met his gaze firmly and said, “We’ll get through this as well. Just a little bit longer, Akechi. We’re going to make it through.”

Akechi’s shoulders slumped, but resolutely he turned away from the door, his eyes narrowed as he stalked past Kasumi towards the exit.

“Let’s get on with it then,” he snapped over his shoulder. “We don’t have any time to waste if we’re going to figure out this absolute fool’s errand.”

Kasumi exchanged a glance with Akira, and then shrugged a little. He had a point, after all; there was no point in them lingering any longer. With that, Akira and Kasumi both turned away from the door and followed Akechi out of the Palace, the trio’s body language exhausted, but not quite yet beaten.

* * *

Akira had promised that they would talk after the Palace, and they now had an additional puzzle to solve, so it was inevitable that the trio wouldn’t split apart immediately after leaving like they usually did. That was only to be expected, and if Kasumi was entirely honest, she was a little excited for the chance to get to know them both better, outside of the Metaverse.

However, Kasumi couldn’t help but think that _this_ was just depressing. 

They sat at the small restaurant table together, but all three of them stared silently and morosely at their drinks. She considered trying to break the silence a few times, but every time she looked up to see the way Akira’s head dipped in clear exhaustion or the dour, frustrated look on Akechi’s face as he tried to stare holes into his coffee, she ended up giving up. Instead, she sighed, propping her chin on her hands as she stared down at her own tea.

They had a great deal to talk about, but it seemed as though nobody knew where to start. After Akechi’s display at that door, Kasumi wasn’t surprised, either; the way that he’d snapped still stuck with her, niggling at her in a way she just couldn’t seem to push aside. He’d sounded desperate… but what could someone like Akechi have to be _that_ desperate over? There was so much she still didn’t know.

Akira had promised her answers, and she knew he wouldn’t go back on that.

But between their close call with that horrifying monstrosity of a Shadow (the thought of it still made Kasumi shudder) and the way that they were now stuck thanks to that door, it seemed their spirits were too low to make conversation happen too easily. It wasn’t as though conversation flowed between the three of them terribly easy outside of the Palace as it was; in an odd sort of way, Kasumi almost felt like she didn’t know either Akira or Akechi outside of the Palace as well as she knew Joker and Palace Akechi.

It was a silly thought, though, and she shook her head at herself for having it. They were still the same person; they just didn’t have the masks they wore while in the Metaverse.

The silence dragged on.

Kasumi fiddled with her mug. Across the table from her, Akechi slouched more. And finally, slowly, Akira brought a hand up to rub at his forehead, and muttered something under his breath that Kasumi couldn’t quite catch.

But then he straightened. “Alright, so. We’ve got a couple of things to figure out here, so we should probably get--”

“Is there anything I can get you three?” their waitress asked with a smile as she appeared at their table, and Akira closed his eyes for a long moment, clearly searching for patience.

“Um, no, I think--” Kasumi began to respond politely, but her own words were interrupted by the growling of her stomach. Oh… it’d been awhile since she’d eaten, hadn’t it? Still, that was beyond embarrassing; she ducked her head, flushing.

It was the first time Akechi had looked up since they’d arrived, though; he inspected her for a moment with an arched eyebrow, before he shrugged a little. “We are clearly going to be here for some time,” he said with a sigh. “We may as well order something to eat.”

It was a graceful acknowledgment of Kasumi’s embarrassing display that she wasn’t expecting, but she wasn’t about to look the metaphorical gift horse in the mouth; she quickly picked up her menu, smiling brightly at the waitress as she ordered.

“I’d like the club sandwich, please! With fries as the side.” She hummed contemplatively, before she continued, “And also the katsudon, and… I think a side of yakko, please. That should be enough.”

She lifted her head from the menu to find Akechi staring at her with unrestrained disbelief, while Akira just hid what was clearly an amused smile behind his hand.

“You are going to eat _all_ of--” Akechi began, but Akira smoothly cut in to say, “I’d like the katsu sando.”

Akechi looked between the two of them, still thoroughly disbelieving, but the waitress had turned to him, and he’d clearly lost his chance to protest how ridiculous the entire situation was. He cleared his throat, straightening by habit, flashing the waitress a smooth smile by the same.

“The tamago sando should be plenty for me, thank you,” he said with a plastered on smile, and somehow the smooth tone that he’d slipped into made Kasumi frown a little. It was the only tone she’d ever heard from him, technically, until they’d ended up in the Palace together this week, but even so, it felt wrong. Perhaps she was just too tired to be cautious, or perhaps their near-brush with death had left Kasumi bolder, but she couldn’t seem to just let it go.

So as soon as their waitress left, Kasumi propped her chin on her hand, still frowning, and said, “It doesn’t feel right when you use that tone now.”

“Excuse me?” Akechi said in response, said pleasant tone slipping right away from him in favor of tired exasperation.

“Mm, that’s better,” she said, frown easing off of her face. It seemed ridiculous for such a small thing to feel so wrong, but now that Akechi wasn’t pretending to be charming anymore, she felt much more at ease. Akira stifled a snort that sounded far too amused behind his hand, but when they both looked at him, his expression was perfectly smooth. He pushed his glasses up to catch the light and block his eyes, and arched an eyebrow at them.

“What?”

Akechi just sighed, shaking his head with clearly tired exasperation. “It would clearly be a waste of time to address any of the many, many things I could bring up right now that are a problem.”

He crossed his arms, leaning back into his chair to inspect both Kasumi and Akira with a flat gaze. “We have more important things to discuss regardless, so let’s stop wasting time.”

Kasumi straightened in response, nodding firmly. “I suppose while we wait for our food, we can talk about everything.”

Akechi arched an eyebrow at that. “‘Everything’, is it? So, as I suspected, you both have more planned for this meeting than just figuring out a method to get past that cognitive roadblock.”

Akira shrugged a little. “There’s some stuff that needs to be said, Akechi. I know you’re aware of it too.”

Akechi’s lips pressed into a firm line in response, but he didn’t immediately deny it, which Kasumi took to be a good sign.

“Kasumi’s in too deep with us now too. She deserves to know some of what happened too,” Akira continued, propping his chin on his hand, elbow resting on the table. “So I’m going to tell her.”

Akechi’s eyebrows arched higher. “That has nothing to do with me. You can discuss your past histories on your own time.”

Akira stared at him for long enough that Akechi shifted uncomfortably in his seat, looking away. “You know that isn’t true,” Akira pressed, his own brow furrowed. “There’s a lot more to it than that. You need to be here for this… because I have things I need to ask you too.”

That seemed to be a bit too far for Akechi; he immediately shifted to get up, hand shoved into his pocket to grab a few bills. “Here. This will cover my share. I’m leaving--”

“Akechi-san, wait--!” Kasumi exclaimed, standing as he did, her hands planted on the table. They were getting stares at this point, even with the strange smiles everyone still wore as they watched them. It gave the people around them an eerie feel, as if an audience watching a stage show, instead of concerned patrons of a restaurant watching some sort of clash. Kasumi tried to ignore them, but she couldn’t help the way she had to glance around, a faint frown on her face.

Akira remained seated, though he leaned back into his chair. And, quietly, he said, “I thought we agreed to cooperate. You were the one who asked me if I knew what the word meant, before. I guess I have to flip your words on you now, huh?”

Akechi stared at Akira for a long, long moment… before he sighed, expression sour still, and slumped back into his seat. He crossed his arms again, body language entirely closed off, but he wasn’t making any motions to leave anymore, and that was about as good as Kasumi supposed they could hope for. Of course, this meant that Kasumi herself was the only one standing at their table at this point. Hastily, she plopped herself back into her own seat, face red as she stared at her hands in her lap.

“I’m not happy about it, for the record,” Akechi said. “But I suppose in the interests of ‘cooperation’, I will stay.”

“Your protest is noted,” Akira said breezily, before he turned his attention to Kasumi. “With that all settled… what do you want to ask first?”

She lifted her head slowly, first meeting Akira’s kind gaze and then Akechi’s sour one as she slowly thought that over. She’d always had so many questions about the two of them from the moment they dove into Mementos together. There was clearly so much history, so much that had happened between the two of them that she couldn’t even begin to fathom… but at the same time, Kasumi felt as though she understood them better than she used to, too. She’d learned from them on their own terms, and even if it took time, that was how she wanted to continue to learn.

She wanted to understand Akechi and Akira as the people they were in and out of the Metaverse, and every single part of themselves that they allowed her to see.

When Kasumi thought about it like that, her questions were easily pared down. They were things she could learn for herself in time, which meant…

“I just have one question, Senpai, Akechi-san.” Kasumi lifted her chin, meeting their eyes one right after another. “What happened between you both? I’m… not a Phantom Thief. I was never involved with everything the Phantom Thieves did. That feels like the only part of the story I’m really missing.”

“What _didn’t_ happen between us?” Akechi’s mutter was low and under his breath, but Kasumi wasn’t sure what to make of that response and so tried to not overthink it. Not just yet, at least.

There was silence for a long moment after that. Kasumi hesitated. “Um… if it is too difficult to talk about, Senpai, you don’t have to answer. That goes for both of you.”

Akira shrugged a little, rubbing the back of his head. “It’s not that, don’t worry. I’m just trying to figure out where to start.”

Akechi leaned back in his chair again, cup of coffee in hand and clearly unwilling to be helpful in any way with this topic. Akira rolled his eyes a little to himself, tapping his fingers on the table idly as he tried to pinpoint where to begin.

“At first,” Kasumi said into the heavy silence, “I thought that you might have been the sort of rival you’d expect from a Phantom Thief and a Detective Prince. Akechi-san was always talking about chasing down the Phantom Thieves back then, after all. But that’s not right at all, is it?”

Akira’s brow furrowed a bit as he wrestled with that. “It’s… not wrong, either, though. Akechi was that--he was the detective trying to catch the Phantom Thieves. But he was more than that, too.”

Kasumi’s eyes widened a bit, her hand coming up to her mouth in surprise. She hadn’t expected such a dramatic confession, and her head was reeling immediately from the implications. He was _more_ than just the detective foil trying to capture the Phantom Thieves? How _much_ more?

Akira sighed, and said flat out, “He was working his own angle too the whole time, and he was going to kill me to get me out of the way. So there’s a lot to what was going on with us.”

Kasumi blinked, and again, as her initial conclusion shattered into little pieces and began to form into a _completely_ different picture. “Oh,” she responded blankly, still trying to process all of that.

“As for _why_ he was doing all of that…” Akira’s gaze slid over to Akechi, before he shook his head. “That’s not my story to tell. But really, we should have told you this a long time ago. It was dangerous to drag you into a Palace with a team that wasn’t exactly prepared to get along.”

“That’s a rather euphemistic way of putting it,” Akechi said with a snort.

“With two people who really needed to punch it out?” Akira offered instead, and Akechi made a face, but didn’t argue it.

Kasumi had been quiet throughout this exchange, still puzzling over the information she’d been given; tentatively, she broke in with a quiet, “Akechi-san, you really--?”

“Yes,” he said without a moment’s hesitation, setting his coffee cup down on the table with an ease that didn’t match the subject matter at _all_ to her. “I did. I would have succeeded if not for a bit of bad luck.”

From the side, Akira mouthed at Kasumi, ‘It wasn’t luck’, which was honestly just even more puzzling. She looked between them both, from Akechi’s unrepentant expression to the casual look on Akira’s face, and couldn’t help but ask plaintively, “You’re both okay with that…?”

Akira just shrugged a little in response, and said quite honestly, “We’re working it out.”

“Why are you asking me?” Akechi said, eyebrow arched. “Obviously I am fine. I did what I wanted to do.”

Kasumi looked between them again, expression slowly settling into what she was sure was eventually going to be permanent disbelief. She’d put up with their strange song and dance for what felt like ages now--perhaps it had only been a few days in actuality, but considering how much time she’d spent with them this past week, it felt like much more. And she’d been willing to continue to do so, too; it was their business, and she knew that eventually, they’d figure it out. Or, at least, she’d thought so.

But those answers made her suddenly doubt all of that faith in them, and her brows drew together as her eyes narrowed.

“That can’t possibly be true.” Kasumi’s firm refusal was so certain and unexpected that both Akechi and Akira looked at her in varying amounts of surprise.

“Senpai, he tried to kill you,” she said to Akira first, her eyes narrowed. “I know you’re forgiving, but doesn’t that cross some sort of lines? You must still be at least a little upset about it!”

Akira opened his mouth, but she was already turning on Akechi then, leaning over the table in her fierce certainty. “And you, Akechi-san! Can you really say that you don’t feel anything at all about trying to do something like that? Even now, after going through so much of the Palace together?”

Akechi’s expression shifted into immediate outrage at her assumptions, but Kasumi was on too much of a roll to back down now.

“I know it isn’t really any of my business,” she said, slowly settling back into her chair. “But you both need to be more honest with yourselves.”

“You’re meddling in things that do not concern you--” Akechi began, but Kasumi cut him off for the first time in their entire acquaintanceship, snapping out, “I know I am! I know this isn’t really anything I should be meddling with, I know that, I do! But…!”

She straightened, shoulders back and chin up, a fierce fire in her gaze. “You are both important to me. I don’t want to see you act like everything is fine when it _isn’t_!”

Akira opened his mouth again, and again Kasumi spoke first. “You, especially, Senpai! You always pretend like everything is fine even when it isn’t. I know… I might not be trustworthy enough for you to tell when things are difficult, but I still _wish_ I was!”

Kasumi dipped her head then, biting her lip. “I wish I could do more for you, Senpai. And I wish I could understand Akechi-san better, and be there when he needs someone to be there too. I _wish_ I was someone you both can rely on, and that’s… not something I can hold back on any longer!”

There was silence in response, and she was almost afraid to lift up her head to see what expressions were on their faces. Akechi, certainly, would be upset with her. And Akira… maybe he’d be disappointed in her for her outburst…? She wasn’t sure, but she wasn’t prepared to see just how upset with her they were.

“Ah. Of course. That’s it,” Akechi said, tone surprisingly mild, and Kasumi blinked to herself before she lifted her head again to stare at him.

“We know that our Palace ruler is attempting to change the world and cognition to match what people are wishing for, correct?” he continued to explain, despite how both Akira and Kasumi stared at him in absolute bemusement at the sudden topic shift. “If we also make enough people wish for that door to be open…”

“That asshole’s going to have to open the door up,” Akira finished with a grin, propping his chin on one hand contemplatively. “Yeah, I think that could work, actually. Good job, Kasumi--we’ve got a plan, at least, now.”

“Um,” Kasumi said in return, head still spinning as she tried to catch up to where the conversation was now. It had swung incredibly fast from her scolding and demands to this solution, and while she was happy it was productive, she wasn’t sure she was ready to just give up on what she’d been saying.

“Figuring out how to convince enough people to change their wishes may be troublesome,” Akechi continued with a hand at his chin. “We may have to brainstorm proper ways to do so.”

Akira nodded easily. “We can do that. With a solution in mind, it’ll be easier to start brainstorming plans.”

“Um,” Kasumi said again, before she hesitantly continued, “I’m glad that we have a plan, but I still want to--”

“Here is your food!” their waitress said cheerfully as she carefully began to lay out the many plates and bowls (most of them Kasumi’s), and Kasumi slumped back into her chair with a huff, her opportunity interrupted once again. For a moment their table was quiet again, Akechi and Akira tucking into their sandwiches while Kasumi poked unenthusiastically at her bowl. All of the food in front of her looked amazing, and she was still hungry--but even so, somehow, her enthusiasm for the meal had disappeared.

“We’re not ignoring what you were saying, Kasumi,” Akira said when he put his sandwich down, offering her a faint smile. “I promise. We’re still going to talk about what you had to say.”

“I’d rather not--” Akechi said, which Akira immediately steamrolled over with a flat, “We’re going to talk about it.”

Akechi’s dour expression said that he wanted to argue, but he didn’t, and slowly Kasumi lifted her head.

“... I’m sorry for being so pushy. I don’t mean to be disrespectful,” she said, voice soft. “So thank you, Senpai, Akechi-san… for trusting me with this.”

“I haven’t really--” Akechi began to protest, and Akira kicked him under the table hard enough that Akechi winced, and then immediately looked like he was about to dive over the table and strangle him.

Kasumi pinched the bridge of her nose despite herself, sighing out a faintly aggravated breath. “Dealing with you both at once is like attempting to wrangle cats,” she said softly but with great feeling as she finally took a bite of her meal, almost savagely so.

Akechi straightened, voice and posture nearly prim. “I don’t recall asking for you to attempt to ‘deal with’ me at all, so you will have to understand when I say that I don’t feel guilty about that.”

Kasumi made a face at him, something so unlike her and so impolite that he blinked in surprise despite himself, before his lips twitched in faint amusement.

“Ah,” he said. “So there is a human being beneath the pleasant, polite kouhai facade of Yoshizawa-san.”

Kasumi frowned at that, expression more puzzled than anything. “‘Facade’...? I don’t think I’ve worn any sort of facade… I’ve been myself this whole time.”

Akechi responded only with a thoughtful hum, finally picking up his own sandwich to start eating. The tension had dissipated, and the table was once again quiet as they all tucked into their meals, hungry after a long session in the Metaverse. Kasumi only resurfaced after she’d polished off her bowl; before she tucked into her own sandwich, she turned her attention to Akira.

“What about you, Senpai? Are you going to be difficult to wrangle too?”

Akira met her eyes solemnly, and then equally solemnly, he lifted a hand to the side of his head, curling it like a paw, and said, “Like, nya.”

Kasumi buried her face in her hands. Suddenly, this dinner truly did feel like she was fighting a losing battle. Somehow, though, despite her emotional outburst and the way she’d confronted Akechi and Akira... she found that she didn’t mind so much. Maybe it was because they were still there, even though she hadn’t been perfect, polite Kasumi. It was something to think about--but later. First, she had a sandwich and yakko to enjoy.

It turned out that wrangling Akira and Akechi over dinner wasn’t as successful as she’d planned; at a certain point, their conversation dissolved into a silence that was more comfortable than she expected as they all ate. It wasn’t so surprising; they really were all tired after the Metaverse, and keeping up an emotion-laden conversation was more taxing than any of them was ready for. There would be other opportunities, she told herself. If nothing else, she knew more now than she did before.

It was as they were paying that Akechi lifted his head, fixing Kasumi with a thoughtful look. “There is something I would like to ask you, Yoshizawa-san,” he said, even as he dropped just the right amount of money to cover his share and only his share. Akira squinted at the bills Akechi dropped down, and then rolled his eyes towards the ceiling, reaching for his own wallet.

“Hm…?” she asked, focused on opening up her own wallet. “What is it, Akechi-san?”

He paused for a moment--that was unusual for him, enough so that Kasumi lifted her gaze--and the way that he looked at her was ominous in a way that she couldn’t quite understand. It was almost as if there was pity there in his gaze, a quiet sort of pity that she’d never seen before from him.

“It is about what you’re calling yourself. Why are you--”

“Oh, excuse me!” their waitress said cheerfully. “Let me take these dishes away for you.”

She glanced at their bill, smiling. “Are you ready for me to take that?”

Kasumi startled a little, digging into her wallet again. “Um, sorry, let me just--”

“I’ve got it, Kasumi,” Akira said, offering the pile of yen to the waitress. She took it with a bob of her head, smiling at him almost a little bashfully, and then she was gone. Kasumi rubbed the back of her head, offering Akira a smile almost as bashful as the waitress’.

“Thank you for covering for me, Senpai… oh, but I’ll grab the next meal, okay? Fair’s fair!”

She shook her head a little, and then turned her attention back to Akechi. His expression had shuttered during the course of that interaction, and Kasumi found that now, she couldn’t read anything from that blank face.

“What were you saying, Akechi-san?”

He looked at her for a moment longer, silent. Then he shook his head and said, “It was nothing important. I’m off, then. Brainstorm ways to get others to wish that cognitive block away; we can reconvene tomorrow.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and turned on his heel, stalking off and leaving Kasumi and Akira alone at the table. She watched him go with a faintly puzzled look on her face, before she could only shrug to herself and start to gather up her own belongings.

“Hmm,” was all Akira said, quietly and under his breath, before he turned to Kasumi and offered her a small smile. “I’ll walk you to your train. Let’s go.”

That evening, Kasumi curled into bed (after profusely apologizing to her father for not joining him for dinner) and traced the cover of her book idly. She was exhausted, tired enough that her brain kept flitting from thought to thought, her eyes fluttering closed despite herself, before she jerked herself away again.

She wanted to be able to bring ideas to the group tomorrow on how they could get everyone to wish for that door to open, but her mind kept jumping back to the look on Akechi’s face as he’d asked her that mysterious question.

“Why am I… what?” she whispered to the book, staring at the cover. In the back of her head, there was a soft, staticky response, but she couldn’t understand it at all. She was too tired to be frustrated by that; instead, Kasumi just sighed, her shoulders slumping.

By the time the voice was loud enough to be heard, a soft, faint, “ _When will you remember who you are…?_ ”, Kasumi was fast asleep, and could not hear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we've wrapped up 1/5 properly, with three days left to go on their journey, phew.
> 
> Thanks for reading and for joining me on this wild ride, as ever! ♥


	6. 1/6

Kasumi woke to her phone buzzing against her face. Blearily, she lifted her head, fumbling around her pillow for her phone, and pulling it up to squint at the screen. A text message…?

That sunk in first, followed immediately by the time; she sat up suddenly, staring at the accusing 11:23 am that blinked back at her. She’d really slept _that_ late?

Kasumi stumbled out of bed hastily, tugging on clothing for the day and hastily heading downstairs with her phone still clutched in her hand. Her father peeked out of the kitchen to arch an eyebrow at her.

“Ah, so you are still here. I was beginning to wonder if you’d headed out early without saying anything.”

Kasumi flushed a little, dipping her head. “Dad! I’d never do something like that to you. I, um… I guess I was just tired.”

He laughed a little, pointing to the table. “You must have been. Have a seat, I’m just finishing up lunch.”

Kasumi obediently did so, slumping into the seat with a sigh that morphed into a yawn halfway through. She rubbed at an eye blearily, before it finally sunk in that she’d never actually checked the text that had woken her up. Kasumi woke up her phone and peered at the screen, but it was too blurry to read--another issue her unreliable phone had been having as of late. With a sigh, she unlocked the phone properly, opening up the text to read it.

 **Akira:** Are you busy today? I’d like to meet up.

Kasumi stared at the message pensively, resting her phone flat on the table as she did, propping her cheeks on her knuckles. Before, she would have jumped for joy to talk with Akira--and admittedly, she still felt that immediate rush of joy that her incredible senpai wanted to spend time with her. But a part of her hadn’t forgotten all of the things she’d told him and Akechi both yesterday over dinner… that was most likely what he wanted to talk about.

… Still, what was the point of running away from that? She’d meant what she said, and that had to be good enough, right? She wouldn’t run away from him again, not over this.

With that decided, Kasumi nodded firmly to herself and tapped out a response with one finger with her phone still on the table.

 **Kasumi:** I’m not busy, Senpai. Where do you want to meet up?

“You look serious,” Shinichi said, setting a plate in front of her. “Is everything alright?”

Kasumi looked up at him, flashing him a bright smile. “Oh, yes, of course! I was just planning something out with a friend, that’s all.”

Her father looked at her seriously for a long moment, before he rested a hand on the table. “Listen, Su--”

Kasumi winced as another sharp flash of pain shot through her temple. Maybe… she should start to see someone about these headaches…? They were starting to get pretty bad, and more often than she would have liked as well.

Shinichi was still talking, however. “You’ve been spending a lot of time out with your friends… I’m glad you’ve been spreading your wings more, but could you keep me posted a bit more about where you are and when you’ll be home…?”

Kasumi blinked a little at that. “Oh… yes, of course, dad! I’m sorry for making you worry.”

Still… she lifted her chopsticks idly, but didn’t dive into her food just yet. “What do you mean, though? By me spreading my wings more? I know I’ve always been focused on my gymnastics, but I think I’ve always been pretty outgoing.”

For a moment, Shinichi’s expression crumpled in a way that Kasumi had never seen from her father. “That’s…”

He was quiet for a moment, before he took the seat across from her at the kitchen table, taking a slow breath in. The way he folded his hands before him on the table reminded Kasumi of when she and Sumire would get in trouble--he would stare at them both with this same tired solemnity, though she can’t recall him ever looking quite _this_ pained.

“You’ve always--”

_been so much more open_

“--than your sister. That’s why I’m a little--”

_relieved that you’re doing okay_

“--because it feels a little bit like you’ve--”

 _changed_.

Kasumi shook her head a little. For some reason, it felt like there was cotton stuffed not only in her ears, but in her head as well, leaving her feeling muffled and fuzzy.

“I’ve...changed…?” she whispered that quietly, lifting a hand to her temple. She lifted her head, not realizing she’d dipped it in the first place, to meet her father’s worried eyes.

“Yes,” he said softly. “You’ve changed.”

She was quiet in response for a moment, before she put down her chopsticks firmly. “If I’ve changed… I think it’s for the better, dad.”

Kasumi drew in a slow breath, before she smiled a little to herself. “I feel stronger now. Like I’m a better person… like I’m reaching better heights now! I know I haven’t been myself lately, but that’s how I feel now.”

She was expecting her words to comfort her father, so it was a surprise to see the way that his expression crumpled further; he bowed his head, dragging in a deep breath, as if that was the only thing that was keeping his emotions in check. “Listen, honey,” he said, looking at her in a way that was so beseeching it nearly broke her heart. “I know that your sister’s death hit you harder than anyone. But… you don’t have to pretend--”

“Pretend…?” Kasumi stared at him quizzically. “I’m not pretending anything! Honest, dad--I’m not pretending to be strong or happy or anything. I really am so much stronger now!”

“That’s not--” Shinichi paused, brow furrowing as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Listen, please, Sum--”

Kasumi’s phone buzzed again, interrupting him, and despite herself, she glanced down to look at the text. It was confirmation from Akira, and she brightened a little before she turned her attention back to her father, expression sheepish. “Sorry, I’m listening! What’s the matter?”

Shinichi stared at her for a long, long moment, before he simply sighed a little and shook his head. “It’s nothing. I’m glad you’re having a good time with your friends. Just… please keep me more in the loop with when you’ll be home.”

“Mm, okay! I’ll be sure to do so,” she said, voice chipper, before she properly tucked into her meal with gusto, especially in a hurry now that she had a place to be. It didn’t take her long to finish her meal, and then Kasumi was off, tugging her coat on even as she hurried out the door. Her eyes were fixed ahead, and she never saw her father watch her go with a tired, harrowed expression on his face as he saw one daughter where the other should have been.

* * *

“Senpai!” Kasumi lifted an arm to wave as she trotted up to the bench where he sat at Inokashira Park. Akira looked up from his phone at that, before he lifted a canned coffee for her as both greeting and offering.

She took it gratefully, flopping onto the seat next to him with a bit of a smile. Getting out of the house had cleared her head a little; she felt more enthusiastic and optimistic both now, and her father’s oddly solemn face was quickly being tucked away in a small corner of her mind where she didn’t have to think too hard about it.

“What did you want to meet for?” Kasumi asked simply after she took a moment to bask in the peacefulness of the park. It was too cold to make for a pleasant spot to sit for too long, but for now? For now it felt just fine.

Carefully, she started to pry open the tab of the can, a little fumblingly so due to her gloves.

Akira leaned back against the bench, watching his breath crystalize in the air for a moment before he said simply, “I wanted to see how you were holding up. And… to talk about what you said before at dinner, too.”

Kasumi straightened a little, cheeks flushing. “Oh, that was--!”

“You were right,” Akira said calmly, interrupting her before she could stumble over her own words more, and Kasumi ducked her head, staring down at the can in her gloved hands. “I’m not very good at leaning on other people when I’m dealing with some things myself. It’s kind of a bad habit, I guess. Things have been a little stressful lately, so I just kind of...reverted.”

Kasumi nodded quietly in response. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand that; in terms of the people under the greatest strain in their little trio, she knew both Akechi and Akira had it much harder than she did. She was only along for the ride because she’d found the Palace first and her phone had its information stored; otherwise, she really had nothing to do with the whole situation, she was sure.

“It’s not a matter of lack of trust or anything, though,” Akira continued, shifting to look at her firmly. “I hope you can at least believe in me enough to believe that.”

Kasumi closed her eyes for a moment. She took in a deep breath, the air cold enough to nearly make her lungs ache, before she opened her eyes again to meet her senpai’s, smiling at him brightly.

“I do. Of course I believe in you, Senpai. And it isn’t as though I’ve been particularly fair, either…” She dipped her head, expression rueful. “I was just as bad about not sharing how I was feeling about everything before. I haven’t always felt like myself lately, but today… I think I’m more sure of it! Of… who I want to be, and the sort of Kasumi I think I _can_ be. So… please believe in me, too, Akira-senpai. I won’t let you down.”

The smile on his face was small but sincere in response, and there was a certain calmness to his expression that made Kasumi feel as though everything was worth it. If she could bring him even a small ounce of comfort… weren’t all of her efforts worth it?

“I believe in you too, Kasumi.” Akira tucked his hands into his pockets quietly, Kasumi blinking as she realized only then that the only drink he’d apparently purchased had been for her. “You’re a valuable part of the team, and you’re my friend. That’s how I feel.”

Her cheeks felt warmer than she wanted to admit to as she stared down at her coffee. The knowledge that she was able to be something so significant to her senpai warmed her from the inside out, in a way that she couldn’t help but enjoy. It would be okay if she basked in it for just a moment, wouldn’t it? 

Still, Akira didn’t give her too much time to dwell.

Instead, he tipped his head back, watching his breath crystalize in the air as he murmured, “I wasn’t really sure how to respond last night, when you talked about me figuring out how I feel about Akechi and what he did. I’ve been thinking about it ever since, and I think I finally know how to put it into words.”

Kasumi straightened at that, immediately tucking her own feelings away for a moment to look at him. He did look more focused and serious--and more settled as well. There was something relieving about that; it was almost as if Akira had come to a conclusion of his own in a way that she could absolutely believe was sincere. In this world of fake happiness and manipulated feelings, that sincerity just seemed all the more precious to her.

So she smiled at him, bright and certain. “That’s good to hear, Akira-senpai! I know it’s not really any of my business, but… do you mind if I hear it?”

The grin he flashed her was teasing, a bit more like the Akira that she remembered at school and when they hung out together, casual and calm except for when he flashed her these teasing looks before a quip or dryly entertained remark. Something else in Kasumi’s heart eased, something settling into place. She was that relieved that Akira was more like himself, huh…? That meant…

“Of course I’ll tell you,” Akira said, head tilted. “You’re the one who demanded it last night, after all. You demanded it pretty forcefully, too, from how I remember it.”

Kasumi blinked, staring at him, her lips parting in quiet surprise--before she flushed, looking away quickly. “T-that’s… um, well, it was just that in the moment you and Akechi-san were…!”

Akira snorted softly under his breath in amusement at that. “Yeah, I know. I didn’t say it was uncalled for, you know. Anyway, I’ll stop teasing you. Point was, I think you’ve earned the right to hear it after everything.”

Kasumi nodded a little, her head still bowed. She pressed her gloved hands to her cheeks as if to try to get the redness she knew was in them to fade, but even so, she was listening as Akira straightened, cleared his throat, and began to speak.

“Obviously I’m not happy that Akechi tried to kill me,” he said, staring up at the sky with an almost thoughtful expression. “But maybe I’m not as mad about it as you’d expect, either. There’s some other stuff he did that I’m angrier about to be honest, but...”

His mouth twisted in an expression of frustration for a moment, before he shook his head. “Those aren’t mine to talk about either. Either way, I guess the point is that even though those things do exist, Akechi was dealt a pretty raw hand himself. It’s not like that excuses it, but...”

Akira huffed out an aggravated breath of air, taking the time to again watch it form in the air before he continued.

“I guess I get it, a little bit. I get it, and while I haven’t exactly forgiven him, I… haven’t really forgiven myself, either, for not reaching out to him more when I had the chance. I can’t help but wonder if maybe I could’ve done more for him if I had. That’s… all.”

“Senpai…” Kasumi breathed out, eyes wide as she looked at him. She’d had no idea that he was carrying around that sort of guilt on top of everything else… It was no wonder things were so strained between him and Akechi. It was undeniably sad to hear; that Akira had wanted to save Akechi, that Akechi had been unable to be saved in some way, that something grim had happened… all of that was implied by the way Akira’s words carefully skirted around any mention of Akechi’s fate. Kasumi knew she wasn’t always the most perceptive person, especially when she was distracted by her own goals, but she was perceptive enough for this.

The way Akira’s words avoided the topic practically spelled it out in the empty spaces left behind.

Slowly, she took a deep breath in.

When she looked over at Akira, he was still staring at the sky, a nearly wistful look on his face. His glasses didn’t hide his expression from this angle; there was undeniable longing there, the desire to have done better and done more, to save someone who Akira thought could have been saved with one more outstretched hand. It was sweet, she thought. It was incredibly sweet the way that Akira was always willing to reach out a hand, even to people like her and Akechi. But even so…

“That’s the problem I’ve always had with the Phantom Thieves,” she said, nearly startling herself with her own frankness. “To be saved by someone else, someone has to be willing to save themselves first. The Phantom Thieves can’t do everything for everyone. At a certain point… everyone has to be willing to do what they can for themselves, too.”

Akira was staring at her now, lips slightly parted in surprise that she knew from him was nearly the same as an expression of gaping shock.

But she was sure of what she was saying, and while there was a bit of an apology in her smile for the bluntness of her words, she wasn’t ready to back down. There were echoes of their first chat about the Phantom Thieves in her words, but she sounded more certain now even to herself. She’d had time to think about this now, even with the world all wrong, and there were some things she was even more sure about now.

“At a certain point, Akechi-san has to be willing to take that first step himself. Isn’t that right, Senpai?”

Akira stared at her still, and Kasumi fiddled with her coffee can a little awkwardly, before she lifted gloved fingers to tug at a strand of her own hair. “Um… I really do believe that, with all of my heart… but I guess that might have been a little blunt… a-and, um, I didn’t say it to undermine your feelings…!”

Akira blinked, and then slowly, he smiled a little, shaking his head more to himself than anything. “Every time I think you’re done surprising me, you pull something else out and surprise me all over again, Kasumi.”

She opened her mouth as if to respond, but he continued first, tone firm. “You’re right, I think. I do still want to do what I can for Akechi. But… he has to take that step too, and meet me halfway. We all have to do our part for our own sakes… that’s what you’re trying to say, right?”

“Mm, that’s right!” Kasumi said. She lifted her hands, clenched into softly gloved fists. “I want to do what I can for Akechi-san too, so I just… I hope we can convince him to try for himself too!”

Akira settled back against the bench with a faintly huffed out laugh. “Well, he’s working with us on this Palace. That’s a start, considering how he can be.”

Kasumi nodded earnestly in response. Now that she’d gotten to know more of the Real Akechi, she knew just how true that was; if he didn’t have some sort of stake in this, he would’ve ditched them long ago. But instead, he was still by their side, helping them take down this Palace. He might’ve been irritated with them often, and he might’ve had to save them a bit during the last infiltration, but he was still there. That meant something.

“That’s right!” she chirped cheerfully. “And the way that he punched you back when you two fought each other in the Safe Room means he feels just as strongly about this as you do, Senpai!”

Akira froze for a moment, before he just sighed and covered his eyes with a hand, shoulders slumping. “Right… you were there for that too. When you say that so cheerfully, it’s kind of...”

She blinked, tilting her head. “‘Kind of’...?”

But he was already shaking his head the moment she parroted his words back at him, waving it off with a rueful expression. “Never mind, it really doesn’t matter.”

Kasumi blinked at him, head still tilted in clear puzzlement, but she didn’t argue when he changed the subject.

“I just wanted to clear the air on that, and give you an actual answer,” he said, tucking his hand back into his pocket. “It only seemed fair.”

“I appreciate it, Senpai!” Kasumi beamed at him, and Akira couldn’t help but smile back a little, rubbing the back of his head.

“And, listen…” He hesitated a moment, as if trying to once again find the words for a difficult concept, before finally, he settled on, “My relationship with Akechi may be complicated, but I do still want him to be happy. There’s a lot he has to answer for, but… well. That’s still true, too, at the same time. I know it’s kind of--”

“No, I think it makes sense,” Kasumi said simply, shaking her head. “You feel that way because you’re friends, after all. Right? That’s what friends do--they care about each other, even when they’ve made some serious mistakes.”

The way she boiled it down was simple enough that it threw him, but only for a moment. A moment later, Akira simply nodded. “Yeah. That’s right. We’re friends.”

Kasumi smiled to hear him say so, closing her eyes for a moment as she basked in the moment. It felt, finally, like she was not only part of the trio, but that she was actively making an impact as well--that she was their friend, and as their friend, she was able to _help_. It felt comforting in an odd sort of way, in a way that she didn’t examine too closely.

“Ah, well,” Akira said then, shaking his head. “I need to head off. There are… still a few of my friends who I want to check on.”

His honesty meant that Kasumi couldn’t even begin to feel miffed that he had to leave so soon; instead, she met his eyes with a solemn nod. “Good luck, Senpai. I hope you’re able to get through to them today.”

His lips quirked into a rueful, wry expression, but he didn’t argue it; instead, he moved to push himself to his feet.

“...Ah.” He paused, shaking his head. “Before I go, have you given any more thought to how we’re going to change everyone’s cognition to get through that door?”

Kasumi stared at him in response as his question slowly sunk in… and then she buried her face into her hands. “Oh no, I totally forgot! I fell asleep as soon as I got home last night and then…!”

She lifted her head again at Akira’s amused chuckle. “Just think about it,” he said. “Akechi’s going to be pretty irritated with you if you don’t have any ideas by the time we meet up again tonight. It’d be a shame when you two have been getting along better lately.”

She had no idea how to react or respond to that, but Akira didn’t seem to be expecting one; instead, he tucked his hands back into his pockets, nodded to her once, and turned on his heel to set off without another word. He thought… she and Akechi were getting along better? Even after she’d irritated Akechi with her presumptuous statements at dinner the night before? That was food for thought for Kasumi, though she had to admit it made her feel warm--a different sort of warmth from how she felt when she was able to assist Akira, but warm nonetheless.

That would require more examination, when she had the time to do so. Right now, though, she had too much to do to focus on something as frivolous as that happiness.

Which reminded her...

“Wait, Senpai!” Kasumi called out, standing up from the bench. Akira paused, looking back over his shoulder, and she smiled, lifting a clenched hand in a fiercely determined expression.

“I think I’m getting closer to understanding my Persona, and what she means to me, so…!” She took a deep breath, and continued, “Please wait for me too! I won’t stand still either--I want to move forward at your side and Akechi-san’s side as well!”

Akira smiled--she could see the curve of his lips even in profile--and then he lifted his hand in both acknowledgement and a final wave. He continued them, and Kasumi watched him go with a small smile on her own face and the resolve to see everything she had decided she would accomplish through.

She had work to do.

* * *

The library would have been the obvious place to go do further research, both on her Persona and on what to do to handle their cognitive roadblock, but Kasumi couldn't think of anything more boring and enthusiasm draining than going to the library during winter break. 

Instead, she went to the gym.

It wasn’t as though she had some sort of amazing epiphany or anything; Kasumi just hadn’t been to the gym since even before break had started, and even though she was technically getting plenty of exercise in the Metaverse, this was different. This was her gymnastics, and it was too important to ignore forever. Kasumi knew that she always felt--and thought--better after a good session of exercise and then a good meal, and she saw no reason why this shouldn’t be the same way.

It was much too late of notice to get a training session with her coach on the books, and they hadn’t exactly parted on pleasant terms after the last competition and how poorly that had gone--so Kasumi was content to make her way to the gym instead of the studio where she normally practiced. She had a locker here as well--she trained often enough to make it a necessity for days when she came straight to the gym after school, and it came in handy now as well as she made her way to her locker and pulled out her workout clothes. The gym was quiet at this time of year and day; the influx of people who were fiercely determined to stick to a New Year’s resolution had yet to arrive, and most of the more serious athletes were either still on vacation, or had come by much earlier.

That suited her fine; it meant Kasumi could get changed quickly and enjoy a very quiet workout session. She surveyed the equipment for a moment with her hands on her hips, before she nodded firmly to herself and chose the treadmill. It was about time she worked on her endurance again; she’d hardly gotten out of shape by any means, but there was always room for improvement. The more she worked at it, the better off she’d be at her routines… and the longer she’d be able to keep up with Akira and Akechi in the Metaverse.

It was funny, she couldn’t help but think as she inputted her preferred settings and began her solidly paced jog. They’d only been working together in the Metaverse for a few days, and yet she was already so comfortable with it that the thought of not having that felt odd. Obviously, it would be for the better when they finished this Palace; everyone was acting so oddly, they had to help them all come back to themselves. On top of that, Kasumi already had a dream, and she didn’t have time to be pulled away from it. Having to run around the Metaverse every night would severely cut into her practice time if it went beyond their break.

Still… she would miss it, at least a little.

Kasumi’s breathing was steady as she jogged, and as often happened when she settled into a decent workout, her mind wandered.

She was relieved that she’d reached an understanding with Akira. She still hadn’t apologized for freaking out at him when he’d met with her in the bookstore… it was something she was going to have to make sure to do when she got the chance. Still, she didn’t get the feeling that he was holding that against her, and Kasumi was relieved. That was her kind senpai--he really was every bit the person she thought he was and then some.

Akechi, though… she still knew so little about him, and what she did know alarmed her. She was his friend too, just as Akira was. That was something she was sure of, so she wanted to do what she could to help Akechi too. She wasn’t sure, still, what had happened between him and Akira to leave Akira looking so regretful, and her thoughts shied away from the topic the moment they landed on it. Perhaps… it would be better to let him tell her, if he ever did, rather than try to theorize on her own.

Perhaps that was simply her running away from the facts, again.

...Running... 

Kasumi’s breathing was a little bit more ragged now, but she persevered; there was no point to an endurance workout that didn’t push her to her limits, and this hardly even had begun to burn.

Her brow furrowed. Was she still running away from her problems? It was admittedly a poor habit of hers and she knew it; avoiding thinking about Akechi’s fate, avoiding telling Akira how she felt at the bookstore… even the way she’d been avoiding her coach all spoke of that poor coping mechanism. She couldn’t run away from her own thoughts, though, no matter how quickly she ran on the treadmill, and that made her think further.

Hadn’t Cinderella, too, run away from change? Kasumi was pretty sure that was how the story went. Cinderella had run away from the prince even though he was, presumably, a positive change in her life. She’d fled because she had to, because she only had so much time… and, in a way, because she’d wanted to preserve that fairy tale image of the person she’d been at the ball.

The illusion would have immediately been ripped away if she’d stayed past midnight.

Kasumi breathed out a slow, ragged breath as she slowed the treadmill down to a walking pace. “Huh…” she hummed breathlessly, frowning a little. “Cendrillon… what sort of… fairy tale are we… in?”

There was no response, of course, and she slowly walked with the treadmill’s slower pace, bringing her heart rate back down to reasonable levels. Was she running away from something important…? Cendrillon was her, which meant that to some extent, her story was also hers. That sort of symbolism, from what she understood, wasn’t meaningless. She’d struggled so much, though, with understanding the symbolism of her own Persona, of the reason that she’d ended up with a Persona like Cendrillon, and now, it felt as though she was right on the _edge_ of something that made sense.

 _“It is about what you’re calling yourself,”_ Akechi had said. _“Why are you--”_

It rang in her head, crystal clear.

_Do you mean to say you are still under this spell?_

Cendrillon had said that to her, voice so certain as to make Kasumi’s own head ache, and now, thinking back on it, she couldn’t help but frown, her eyes squeezing shut and her brow furrowed. What _spell_? What was so strange about what she was calling herself? What _fairy tale_ was she running away from shattering?

Himegimi, too, had run. She remembered that starkly from the bits of the story she’d skimmed through. She’d run from a truth she could not handle, to a shrine where she could live out the rest of her sad but peaceful life, away from the horrible truth that he made her so sad.

It was so close, Kasumi could almost taste it. She merely had to reach out, instead of turning her back and running, and grasp the truth.

The splitting headache that shot through her head was so sudden and so intense that Kasumi collapsed to her knees on the treadmill, unable to do anything else but clutch at her head with a pained and shocked gasp. The treadmill, still running at its walking pace, gently dumped her onto the ground behind it, but still she was unable to move, shaking as she huddled on the ground with both hands clutching at her head. Why did it hurt so much? Every single time she felt like she was near the truth, something stopped her. Every single time--

“Are you okay, miss?” someone asked, leaning over her. Slowly, laboriously, Kasumi pried open an eye, only to see a young woman’s face that smiled down at her eerily widely, not a trace of sincere concern present in the expression.

Right. Everyone was still affected by this Palace, by whatever was going on in the world right now. Everyone was still strange, and unlike themselves, with rictus and unnerving smiles that filled Kasumi with dread. Now, icy fingers of horror clutched at her heart as she slowly started to realize.

“Am… I like you…?” she whispered up at the young woman. She blinked down at Kasumi in confusion, tilting her head, but her smile didn’t budge. “Am… am I…” Kasumi’s voice shook as she huddled over again, clutching still at her head. “Am I also… not myself anymore…?”

It made more sense than she wanted to admit to. How could she think she’d be more amazing than Akira’s friends, the actual Phantom Thieves? How could she have put herself on the same level as Akira and Akechi, assuming she was that special that she could somehow avoid what was happening to everyone else around her? Maybe she wasn’t as affected as the other Phantom Thieves, as the people around her in Shibuya and here in the gym, but Kasumi didn’t think she could deny it any longer.

She was definitely affected in some way.

She wasn’t completely herself, and every time she tried to reach for that truth that her brain shied away from, something stopped her cold.

… How _dare_ they?

Kasumi’s first thought was so viciously harsh that it nearly took her breath away. How _dare_ the Palace’s ruler mess with her head like this--how dare they influence her, and stop her from being the person she truly was? How dare they meddle, when it could have put in jeopardy the dream she shared with her sister, the camaraderie she shared with her new companions, and her hopes for the future.

Slowly, she stood, brushing off the concerned hand the young woman rested on her shoulder. She took a deep breath, straightened, and met her gaze head on. Then she bowed, polite as ever.

“Thank you for your concern,” Kasumi said quietly, before she turned on her heel to stalk away, back to the lockers where she could grab her coat. There were things she had to tell Akira and Akechi, and things she had to figure out for herself.

Most importantly, though…

As soon as she’d retrieved her phone from her coat pocket, she tapped out a text message to Akira, wiping sweat from her forehead with a sleeve as if without a care.

 **Kasumi** : I know how to get past the door.

Then she shoved her phone back into her pocket and strode out into the cold, still dressed in her athletic wear under her coat and expression fiercely determined. She was sure they were going to want to meet at the Palace now that she’d said something like that--Kasumi would beat them there.

* * *

As she’d thought, Akechi and Akira showed up at the Palace not long after she’d shot that text off to Akira; they came together, which made Kasumi wonder, briefly, if they’d met along the way or if they’d been together for part of the day.

She supposed it wasn’t her business, but even so, she couldn’t help but hope that it was at least partially the latter--she wanted them to be able to reach some sort of understanding.

Either way, they didn’t give her long to dwell on it; as soon as they reached their usual meeting place, Akechi was striding forward, an eyebrow arched.

“What did you figure out?” he asked immediately, and Kasumi, by now, knew far better than to be put off by the lack of pleasantries. Besides, what she’d figured out was too important for pleasantries anyway; she was still unsettled deep down, but the icy feeling that gripped her heart was still present, keeping her calm and serious. Later, she thought she might panic, or break down. But for now? She was able to lift her chin, meet Akechi’s eyes, and say, “I should be able to get the door to open.”

Akechi’s other eyebrow arched then to join the other as he looked at her with something that was more curiosity and surprise than actual incredulity. She’d been expecting him to protest; the fact that he didn’t was curious, but a blessing in disguise. Or perhaps he had a faint inkling already of where she was going with this.

“Why do you think that?” Akira asked, finally gently inserting himself into the conversation. He didn’t look terribly surprised, but he never really did; whatever he really thought was hidden behind glasses and a calm, level expression, as ever.

“I think that that door is intended to only be able to be entered by…” Kasumi’s lips twisted then, downwards. “...patients.”

“Or lab rats,” Akechi put in, a hand coming to his chin thoughtfully, and she had to immediately try to put that thought out of her mind. It was too unnerving, now that she knew…

“I’m likely one of them,” she admitted softly. She continued in a rush before her courage ran out, “I haven’t been entirely myself lately. At first I thought it was just strange, or that maybe I was stressed or something like that, but seeing how everyone around us has been acting, and the other Phantom Thieves and everything… I think that I’m affected too. I’m… maybe, I’m one of the Palace ruler’s ‘patients’. If that’s the case, then… the door should open for me, right?”

Akechi hummed thoughtfully at that, ignoring her apparent distress and the way her head bowed. “It is possible. We should have tested that theory yesterday, but as I recall, you did not approach the door.”

She shook her head, expression a fraying calm, like a too-tightly wound clock. “When I came closer… it gave me a headache. I’ve been having a lot of them lately, but I didn’t really think about it until just recently. What they mean… and why I’ve been having them.”

That earned her yet another contemplative look from Akechi, but to her surprise, he didn’t press. “Fine,” he said instead, looking at Akira. “I think it is a reasonable theory to test. I also think the door will open for Yoshizawa-san.”

Kasumi stared at Akechi then, her lips parted in some surprise. She hadn’t thought that he’d be the first to agree and believe in her theory, but here he was, and stating it with such certainty as well. He caught the expression, of course, putting in wryly, “We arrived at the same conclusion from different directions. I also believe that door opens for those the Palace ruler considers lab rats. Clearly, Akira and I are not that since we are entirely in control of our own faculties. You, however...”

That stung, admittedly, but Kasumi tried not to show it beyond a small wince.

A red-gloved hand on her shoulder brought her back to herself, and when Akira offered her a small smile, it settled her. “You’ll get us through, Kasumi. That’s great. And… don’t worry. You’re still yourself, even if maybe there’s been some meddling going on. You’re still the same Kasumi I’ve always known.”

Something about those words didn’t settle Kasumi as much as she wanted them to, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. The way that Akechi immediately opened his mouth as if to protest didn’t help; he looked between them, and then pressed his lips together in a firm line, shaking his head.

Instead of whatever he’d been about to say, Akechi instead said, “Let us get on with it, then. If this doesn’t work, we’ll still need time to come up with a back-up plan.”

Akira looked between Kasumi and Akechi, and then he nodded firmly. “Alright. Let’s do this, you guys--let’s get through this Palace.”

Akechi nodded easily, and Kasumi nodded as well, if a beat behind. There were words she still felt she had to say, words that she could feel in her throat but that she couldn’t seem to get past her lips.

 _Senpai, I’m running away from the truth. I’m running away from some important truth that I still don’t know, so am I really the Kasumi you know?_ she thought fiercely, and fiercely and fiercely, but none of the words made it into the air, and Akira was already facing the Palace, tugging a glove on more firmly and missing Kasumi’s miserable expression entirely. Akechi looked back at her, though, slowly processing the look on her face without a twitch.

There was something in his face that she struggled to place, a look that she wasn’t sure she’d really seen before from him. How much did he know? How much, and for how long had he known? But he only lingered there for a moment before he turned to follow Akira into the Palace, leaving Kasumi to stand there alone, watching trailing coat tails and a ragged cloak.

Slowly, her gaze slid up the tower of the Palace, scaling the odd shapes and ominous cameras with her eyes. Whoever had created this horrible, ominous Palace with its prevalent, watching cameras and clean white, sterile lines had messed with not only Akira’s friends, but also Kasumi herself. They’d changed everyone’s perceptions, implanted false happiness into everyone’s hearts and heads, and were continuing to do whatever they chose to do unchecked.

She could still remember the first time she came here, when she’d nearly died, saved only by Akira’s timely intervention. That cognition of her sister had stared down at her with the same look.

Of course, she thought faintly, staring up at the top of the tower. The look on Akechi’s face--she’d never seen it before on his face, but it was so familiar because it was the same look she’d seen on the faces of her classmates, on her coach’s face, even, perhaps, on her father’s every now again. That look of _pity_ , as if her existence was something to be pitied, as if she was just that pathetic.

Kasumi dragged in a deep breath, her expression setting firmly.

If that was how Akechi felt about her and her realization that she was also being toyed with by the Palace’s ruler, then she would simply have to prove him wrong. Words would mean nothing to him, and that was fine. Kasumi already had a few things to prove to herself; adding the task of proving something to Akechi was hardly any more of a hardship at this point. She would prove, to both him and to herself, that she was someone who didn’t need pity.

With that settled, she dragged in a deep breath and trotted after Akechi and Akira, both of them waiting for her in the Palace elevator with varying levels of patience.

Slipping through the shadows of the Palace was second nature by this point. It had only been a few days, technically, but Kasumi felt as though she’d been fighting by Akira and Akechi’s side for ages instead, and it showed in the way that all three of them pressed forward like a well-oiled machine, avoiding unnecessary fights with the ease of long-practice and the boost of cognition.

Still, they weren’t entirely infallible, and it was inevitable that eventually, they would stumble across Shadows they couldn’t always simply avoid.

Akira turned a corner and, by unlucky timing alone, nearly ran right into a Shadow that had been turning that corner at the exact same time. The Shadow shrieked, lifting its clipboard, and Akira hastily ducked away from the Shadow’s awkward swing, twisting and using his own momentum to snag its mask. From there, it was the work of a moment to yank the mask off, allowing the Shadow to reform into two Loa. By now, the floating skulls were a familiar opponent; Kasumi had once been unnerved by the way that those snakes weaved through their eye sockets, but now she looked at them and merely saw a roadblock.

Akira flipped back away from the Shadows, landing neatly in his position in their formation, tugging on one of his gloves as he lifted his chin.

“All right, let’s--”

He didn’t get any further. Kasumi reached for her mask immediately, lips pressed into a thin, firm line in her own frustration. Cendrillon appeared behind her in a burst of flame and without a word from Kasumi--she knew these Shadows’ weaknesses, and there was no hesitation in the way she sought them out.

The light spell that slammed into all three dazzled the Shadows, and they hit the floor with a series of unholy shrieks--but Kasumi wasn’t finished. Instead, nearly coldly, she lifted her rifle and fired off three firm shots, one by one.

It was enough. Between the searing light of the Makougaon and the extra impact her bullets had from the Shadows’ defenseless state, it was more than enough to cause them to all dissolve into nothingness. The battlefield fell immediately silent, and then Kasumi lowered her gun.

“Let’s continue,” she said simply, voice serious.

Akira blinked at her, slowly shoving his hands into his pockets; she felt a little bad for not waiting for his direction, but not so much that she wouldn’t do it again. They didn’t have the time to mess around here, and she felt that pressing down on her shoulders keenly. She wanted to get to that door and see if her theory was correct, and if she truly was a “patient” of this place. She wanted to get through this Palace and speak with the Palace ruler, and see why they were doing such a horrible thing.

She wanted to reach the truth.

And so she began to walk again, knowing that Akechi and Akira would both follow.

“Well then,” Akechi said from behind her, not at all bothering to lower his tone so she couldn’t hear. “Yoshizawa-san certainly is a woman on a mission today.”

“... Well,” Akira said softly in return, but even so, she could still make out his words. “She has a lot to lose depending on what happens from here. Let’s pick up our pace too, Akechi.”

Akechi scoffed faintly, and she could almost imagine the way that his eyes rolled. “When I suggested such a thing days ago, neither of you could be assed to attempt to move more quickly. I fail to see why I should now in return.”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Akira said simply. “And you’re just as impatient to get to the end of this Palace anyway, so you don’t have to be difficult.”

“I don’t recall asking for your opinion to quite that extent, Joker,” Akechi responded tartly, and Kasumi took a slow, deep breath. Right. Their back-and-forth was a good reminder--her companions were still here with her. She was in a hurry, and she was certainly on a mission, but the last thing she wanted to do was put these two in any sort of danger because she was being too reckless. So after that slow breath in, she breathed out just as slowly, counting down from six in her head… and then she turned her head to flash both of them a small smile.

“Let’s keep going, Akechi-san, Joker-senpai. We’re almost there now, so let’s keep doing our best! And, um… Joker-senpai, you should probably take the lead. You’re much better at that than I am.”

They blinked at her, and then Akira smiled a little in return, head dipping quietly.

“You’re pretty strong, Kasumi,” he murmured as he passed her up, resting a hand on her shoulder briefly, and then he was leading the way, Kasumi falling into step easily, with Akechi by her side. He flashed her a look, but this one was far more contemplative than anything--and when she met his eyes, he arched an eyebrow at her before turning his gaze forward. But the pity was gone, or at least well-buried, and that was enough for her.

The remainder of the twists and turns of the Palace were commonplace to them by now; Akira led them through unerringly (they all paused briefly to admire the destruction they’d wrought on the cameras in that meeting room, still broken into shards), and soon enough, the trio stood before that door, staring up at it quietly. Akira’s expression was calm as he looked up at the door, shoulders loose, while Akechi’s expression was twisted into sardonic ruefulness.

Kasumi, behind them both, looked up at the door, took a deep breath in, and stepped forward. The small panel that scrolled through patient numbers, previously a dull grey, lit up suddenly a bright gold. Akechi hummed lowly, his hands planted on his hips.

“So, we truly were correct.”

Kasumi paused, trying to peer up at the identification she was given, but she was able to only look up with one eye open. The other was shut against the sudden spike of yet another headache. This pain was rapidly becoming familiar, and instead of getting her to back down this time, it only made her all the more determined to see this through.

Akira, though, sounded concerned. “Kasumi, are you--”

“It hurts,” she admitted as she stepped a bit closer to the door, hissing out a breath as the headache only intensified. “It’s like… someone doesn’t want me to keep going…”

She huffed out a breath, looking up at the door again, uncertain when she’d allowed her chin to droop. “But I’m not going to let it. I have to know… I have to know what’s behind this door…!”

From behind her, there was a sharp laugh, low but vocal. “That’s right, Yoshizawa-san,” Akechi snarled. “Don’t let this Palace’s ruler stop you! Don’t let them do whatever they want! Aren’t you _sick_ of the way they’ve been pulling your strings?”

“I--” Kasumi dragged in a sharp breath. Both of her eyes were closed now, her brow furrowed. “ _Yes_. I _am_ tired of that! I’m tired of being in the dark… I’m tired of not knowing the truth! I want…”

She had to cut herself off to stop a noise that was close to a whimper from escaping her, even as she stepped forward again on shaky legs.

“... I want to know the truth!”

Kasumi planted her hands on the door, slammed them flat on the metal with enough force to make her palms sting, something she barely felt over the sharp throbbing in her head.

 _So you finally grow weary of fleeing before midnight?_ Cendrillon’s voice was a relief to hear, and Kasumi swallowed tightly as she nodded. _For now, I suppose that will do. Do not forget that to attain glory, one must sometimes take great risks._

“I know,” Kasumi whispered, voice raw. “I know… so please… let me through!”

There was a click, and a nearly all-too-cheerful robotic voice that said, “Welcome, treasured patient. Please come in. It is nearly time for your appointment.”

Kasumi, with the last of her strength, arms trembling, pushed at the door, and it swung open before even her weak touch. Then she crumpled, one hand weakly pressed to her temple as the pain finally overcame her, Cendrillon disappearing in a flurry of sparkles.

“Kasumi!”

“Yoshizawa-san, _honestly_ \--”

Familiar voices accompanied the hands that grabbed for her, keeping her from hitting her head on the floor, but though she tried to pry open her eyes to reassure her companions that everything was fine, they refused to obey her. That was no good, she couldn’t help but think foggily. They still had work to do, and they’d hardly made any progress on the Palace. Akechi would surely be irritated, and Akira would be disappointed, so she needed to get up…

“We could dump her in a Safe Room and continue.”

“Akechi.”

“It isn’t as though she would be in any danger there.”

“ _Akechi_.”

“ _What_ , Joker?”

“She’s part of the team, and you know it. We’re not leaving her behind.”

Part of Kasumi wanted to assure them that she wouldn’t take offense if they decided to continue, since her limbs seemed to refuse to want to obey her right now. The other part of her wanted to smile at how certain Akira sounded that she was that important--that she could possibly be that important a member of their little team.

She accomplished neither before she finally slipped into unconsciousness, head lolling into the grasp of whoever was nearest to it.

* * *

Kasumi woke with a head stuffed full of cotton and a mouth that was no better.

She winced, groaning as she lifted a hand to her forehead, balefully refusing to open her eyes. She felt like she had the day after Sumire had pushed her to run a marathon with her. Kasumi had always had her eye on the prize of standing on a world stage in rhythmic gymnastics, but Sumire had been interested in the marathon due to its charitable background. So they’d run it together, because that was how they were; they did everything together, even marathons neither was really prepared for.

The next day had truly felt an awful lot like this, where her limbs complained about each and every movement and even the act of opening her eyes felt like far too much effort. Kasumi wondered, vaguely, if Sumire was hurting just as much as she was this morning.

“She’s waking up.”

 _That_ wasn’t Sumire’s voice.

“It’s about time. Now you can both get out.”

There was a soft snort. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll get out of your hair soon.”

Kasumi slowly, finally pried open an eye, and a blurry form slowly shifted into a familiar face. “Senpai…?”

“Glad that you’re doing okay,” Akira said with a bit of a smile, offering her a hand up. She took it gratefully, looking around blearily as soon as she was seated upright. She was in an apartment, small but very tidy--no, “tidy” wasn’t the right word for it. It was practically empty, walls bare and shelves empty, and Kasumi blinked.

“This is…” she murmured softly, slowly putting together the pieces.

Akira shrugged a little. “We figured you wouldn’t recover as quickly in the Metaverse. It can wear you down if you stay in there too long. And we couldn’t exactly bring you back to Leblanc while you were unconscious.”

Right… that made sense. It would certainly attract undue attention and an awful lot of questions. Still, that meant…

“This is Akechi-san’s apartment?” Kasumi asked, brow furrowing.

Akechi sighed. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the wall opposite the bed, which Kasumi now realized must have been his. She flushed a little despite herself, ducking her head.

“Don’t expect to come here again,” he said, voice flat. “If you collapse in the Palace again, I plan on simply leaving you there.”

Akira rolled his eyes towards the ceiling with a weary air that made Kasumi think this wasn’t the first time he’d heard that yet tonight. Still, he was right, as far as she was concerned. She’d halted their progress in the Palace ( _again_ , a treacherous voice in her head whispered), so she wasn’t at all surprised that Akechi was irritated with her. Quickly, she swung her legs over the side of the bed to begin to get up.

“I’m sorry…! I didn’t mean to collapse like that. I know we’ve lost a lot of time, but if we go back now, maybe we can still get to the next safe room…!” Kasumi said, pushing herself up to her feet.

She realized a little too late that her legs felt like jelly and had even less strength than that, and when they collapsed beneath her, she couldn’t do more than utter a small gasp as she began to fall. Akira seemed to have been expecting it; he caught her by the elbow, gently steering her back to the bed.

“Stay,” he said with an arched eyebrow that was clearly exasperated. “We’ll go back into the Palace tomorrow. Now that the roadblock’s been removed--thanks to Kasumi,” he said, shooting Akechi a meaningful look. “We can continue where we left off more easily. So take it easy for now, okay?”

Kasumi wasn’t entirely convinced, and the dour look on Akechi’s face was hardly encouraging. Still, he didn’t argue it, so Kasumi nodded a little weakly, leaning back against the headboard of the bed as she tried to steady herself. The silence dragged for a moment awkwardly, leaving Kasumi hesitant; she had been wondering before where Akechi was staying and how he was taking care of herself, but now that she knew, she didn’t feel as though she really had any right to ask about it further.

“... Do you think we’re close…? Close to making it to the Palace ruler, I mean?” Kasumi finally said softly, lifting her chin quietly.

Akira was quiet for a moment, before he shrugged a little. “To be honest, it’s impossible to tell. We don’t have a navigator to help us keep track, but… that door doesn’t feel like it’s there for no reason. I think we’re close to _something_.”

That made sense; Kasumi nodded quietly, fiddling a little with the edge of her shirt. Ah. Now that she looked, she was back in her exercise clothing; she’d never changed after her gym trip, and now that she was no longer in the Metaverse, she’d been dumped right back into the exact same outfit. It was a little embarrassing, even if she doubted either of them cared at all what she was wearing. In a way, it was like missing a piece of armor; being put together in appearance was another of Kasumi’s defenses. Sitting here in leggings and shorts and a tank top, she didn’t feel tidy at all.

“Despite interruptions,” Akechi said with a sigh and a meaningful look her way, which nonetheless somehow lacked some of the bite she was used to from him, “I believe we should make a fair amount of progress tomorrow, barring any unforeseen roadblocks.”

Kasumi nodded again, and searched for a topic, any topic at all that she could use to break the silence.

“Shall we address the elephant in the room?” Akechi asked, voice dripping with ironic sympathy, breaking the silence with the one topic Kasumi had been trying to avoid. “One of our number is affected enough by this Palace’s ruler to be considered a ‘patient’ by them. That seems rather important to discuss, though you both are avoiding bringing it up rather intently.”

Kasumi’s eyes slid shut as she winced. “That… isn’t wrong,” she said softly. “And I am still coming to terms with what that means for myself.”

“Kasumi…” Akira murmured, brow furrowed in concern. “You don’t have to talk about it if you aren’t comfortable. No matter what Akechi says, you’ve been reliable this whole time. You’re enough of yourself for that.”

That much was true, but somehow hearing Akira give her an out just solidified Kasumi’s resolve further. She dragged in a deep breath, squaring her shoulders, and flashed him a small, slightly pained smile. “Thank you, Senpai,” she said simply. “But Akechi-san is right. This _is_ something we need to address.”

Akechi blinked, almost looking surprised despite himself at her easy agreement; the way he tried to brush off his own startled surprise like a cat made Kasumi’s smile come a little more easily as she looked at him.

“I can’t deny that I’m not completely myself. The Palace confirmed that for us just now. But… even if I’m not entirely sure _how much_ I’m not myself… I can promise you this, Akechi-san, Akira-senpai.”

She looked between the both of them seriously, expression fiercely certain. “Whatever it is, it won’t stop me from helping you both get to the end of this Palace. I’m in just as deeply as both of you now, and I intend on seeing it through. That’s not a promise I’m about to break.”

Akechi opened his mouth.

“That is all well and good, Yoshizawa-san, but even now, you’re--”

“Please!” Kasumi interrupted, straightening up further. “Please, Akechi-san, at least let me prove it! Please trust me…!”

He closed his eyes for a moment, his expression difficult for her to read--still, even so, she didn’t think he was angry. There was something to the downturn of his lips that wasn’t quite pity, either, but before Kasumi could dwell on the many expressions of Akechi Goro and how very few of them she understood, he opened his eyes again to look at her.

“Fine then,” he said, and Kasumi stared at him uncomprehendingly for a far-too-long moment before she brightened.

“R-really?” she asked, the word tripping off of her tongue before she could stop it.

Akechi frowned tightly at that, crossing his arms. “Yes, but I want you to understand something. If ever there is a time that your situation gets in my way, I will remove that roadblock using whatever means are necessary.”

Akira interjected then, straightening from where he’d been leaning against the wall. “Akechi, wait. That’s not--”

“That is my condition,” Akechi responded tightly, hands clenched into tight fists. His words were sharp. “To ‘trust her’. I believe that is a very fair condition, considering the circumstances.”

“It’s okay, Senpai,” Kasumi said again, before Akira could speak in her defense once more. She was warmed by his determination to do so, but she knew fully well that Akechi was being entirely fair. At least, as far as she was concerned… if she got in his way, if her mind was manipulated further, if something like that happened… she would not expect Akechi to hesitate.

Instead, she turned her gaze to him, nodding firmly. “I accept your terms, Akechi-san. If I get in your way… I’ll know what to expect. That seems fair.”

Akira looked between them both before he pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered under his breath, “You are both impossible.”

Kasumi giggled at that, and was a little amazed despite herself as how honest her laughter was. Even despite the day, and her realizations… she was still Kasumi enough for that, wasn’t she? For now, that was enough for her. So long as that was true, she was quite confident she could take on anything that came her way.

Strangely, in the back of her head, she almost thought there was a faint whisper, nearly inaudible, that seemed almost sad. _Oh, my dear false princess..._ Cendrillon murmured, in a tone so soft that Kasumi couldn’t even be certain she’d heard it.

But then Akira was there, offering Kasumi a hand up, even as Akechi sighed and waved them off with a bland, “You have both overstayed your welcome. Leave now.” and Kasumi had to set aside that whispered, faint comment, instead accepting Akira’s hand up.

Later, she murmured inside her own head, either to herself or to Cendrillon--even she wasn’t sure. Later, she would have plenty to think about. Wasn’t it enough to put it off to later, and focus on what she could do in the now?

Akira walked her out, carefully standing by her side until he was certain she was steady on her feet. He opened the door to Akechi’s apartment for her, and for a brief moment, she glanced over her shoulder at the other young man. Akechi watched them go, one hand planted on his hip, and did not bother to say another word, an almost clinically thoughtful look on his face.

… Later, Kasumi promised herself. Later, she would figure everything out. There would be time later, when this Palace was done.


	7. 1/7 - Part One

The next day dawned bright and early, and Kasumi was already out and about long before it could be considered a sane hour. The sun was up, but its winter light was weak and didn’t warm her at all as she stood in front of Akechi’s door, rubbing her gloved hands together for a moment before she tugged one off to knock.

She knew that she was risking waking him up, if he was still in at all--but Kasumi had gotten a certain vibe from that apartment, a vibe that Akechi spent very little time there. It had been barely lived in, practically empty and pristine in an ominous way. Early was the only chance she would have to catch him here, so early was her only option.

Nobody answered.

Kasumi frowned and knocked again.

Nothing.

Did she miss him already…? She knew Akechi didn’t have the sort of personality that would allow him to waste time and just sit around, but it was _awfully_ early. On top of that, their path through the Palace was, at least as of right now, clear--so he didn’t have anything he needed to research or work on, did he…?

Kasumi shivered. Part of her whispered to give it up, to just let it go and meet up with him when it was time to head back into the Palace. She was sure Akechi and Akira would want to meet up earlier today, in the hopes of making some of the progress they couldn’t make yesterday. Besides, it was _cold_.

Even so, though…

Kasumi frowned and knocked again. “Akechi-san, are you in there? Please answer the door!”

Finally, there was shuffling from behind the door, and then a scowling Akechi opened it. He blocked the entrance, clearly having no intentions of inviting her in. That was fine. Kasumi just tugged her glove back on, shoving her hands back into her pockets.

“What do you _want_ , Yoshizawa-san?” Akechi asked, frowning deeply. “Are you aware of what time it is?”

Kasumi looked him over, from his clearly put-together appearance to the coat and scarf he wore, and knew that she’d only just caught him before he headed off on his own. With that in mind, she couldn’t feel remotely guilty, even with how early it was. She didn’t call him out on it. Instead, she offered him a small smile.

“I wanted to talk with you, if that’s okay.”

Akechi’s frown deepened, but Kasumi continued earnestly, “Just for a little while. Please, Akechi-san.”

He stared at her for long enough that she was certain he was going to reject her once more--but then, much to her surprise, he huffed and stepped out of his apartment instead, shutting the door behind him firmly.

“Fine, then. Come with me, and don’t complain about it.”

Kasumi brightened immediately. “Yes! Okay, Akechi-san!” and Akechi sighed heavily at the perkiness of her tone this early in the morning.

“I cannot imagine what it is you want to talk about this early in the morning. And I doubt it is anything of importance,” Akechi finally said after they’d walked quietly for some time. “But you may as well begin to speak.”

“Right.” Kasumi nodded firmly, hastily increasing her pace to make sure that she was walking by his side. It took one and a half of her own steps to keep up with his stride, she noted almost absently; it was a good thing she was fit enough to keep up when he didn’t bother to slow down his walk at all.

It didn’t matter; he was at least listening to her, which meant this was her best chance to say what she’d been meaning to say for some time now. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a moment, and found herself smiling. Truly, she never thought she would have ended up here when this week had started.

“I wanted to thank you, Akechi-san,” she said, tilting her head up to smile at him properly, sincerity in her every word.

In return, he squinted at her suspiciously. “Are you trying to get a rise out of me?”

“What?” The word slipped out of Kasumi entirely unbidden as she stared at him. This was not at all how she’d expected this going, even if really, she probably should have known better by now. The force with which she shook her head no was nearly enough to cause her own ponytail to nearly smack into her face. “That’s not it at all! I really mean it!”

The way that Akechi slowly dragged in a breath, as if he was using that additional time to calm himself down and put his thoughts in order, was not exactly promising. But Kasumi was determined to see this through, and that meant it was far too early to be daunted by Akechi’s occasionally brutally blunt personality.

He frowned at her. “I fail to see what you could _possibly_ be thanking me for. I’ve done practically nothing for you since the beginning of this entire trial.”

“That is true,” Kasumi agreed, and the way she readily did so without any token protesting made Akechi’s lips twitch in faint amusement despite himself. “But even so, I think I do have something I want to thank you for.”

“Even after all of that, you still are determined to see this through?” Akechi asked with a faint sigh. At her firm nod, he waved a hand vaguely. “Fine then, if you must. Get it over with.”

Kasumi nodded again, lifting her chin once more. “Right, okay… right.” She paused briefly to take only a moment to get her thoughts in order, and then she looked at him firmly. “I want to thank you for always being so honest with me, Akechi-san. Sometimes you were really… well, almost painfully blunt, and I know sometimes you were just trying to push me away, but… even so, you’ve always been really honest with me. It’s… something I appreciate. When the world is like this…”

She paused, casting her gaze around them. It was early, but even so, they weren’t the only people walking around. There were businessmen and women, families out on errands, and even a few students--but they all wore the exact same expression, the same almost agonizingly pasted on happiness.

“... When everything is like this,” she continued, more quietly, “I think it’s even more important to have that sort of honesty.”

Akechi’s expression grew complicated at that. For a brief moment, she almost thought he looked _troubled_ , which was something she’d never thought she’d see on someone like Akechi’s face--but then he smoothed out his expression, settling on something a bit more bored. There were cracks in that expression, though; Kasumi could see them now, after getting to know so many sides of Akechi for herself. To her, it was no longer a perfect mask. Akechi was bothered by the state of things too, wasn’t he?

“... Honestly,” Akechi finally responded, looking away. “Of all of the things to thank me for, that was not something I was ever expecting. You know I am rather known for being a liar amongst Akira and his little friends?”

Kasumi nodded; that came right alongside betraying them, she assumed. It wasn’t a surprise, either way. Again, her frank acknowledgement of it, rather than any attempt to deny it to spare his feelings, seemed to amuse him more than anything, and he breathed out a faint breath. “You truly do not hold back any punches. Occasionally, I believe you might be the most insulting of all three of us.”

“That’s not--” Kasumi immediately began to protest, eyes widening. Insulting anyone, especially him, had not been her intention, but he quickly waved that off.

“Yes, yes, I know,” he said dryly. “Insulting me wasn’t your intention. It was just something you do out of your own sincerity and ignorance.”

He shook his head, and before she could protest that either, he continued almost clinically, “Regardless. You should still not thank me for that. I’ve kept things from you, and I have lied to you, and I will continue to do so for as long as I feel that it is necessary. Knowing that, do you still feel the ridiculous urge to thank me?”

Kasumi lifted her chin, furiously determined. In truth, there was a part of her that felt at least a little dread, a small drop in her stomach to hear him say so certainly that he was still hiding things from her. But even so, after the previous night and how he’d opened up his home to her when she had nowhere else to go, how he’d been there for them when things had gone wrong in the Palace, how he’d been blunt but not always unfair in his appraisals of her… she couldn’t just assume the worst of him. If she wanted him to trust her, she needed to extend that trust to him in return, didn’t she?

So she nodded once firmly, meeting his gaze with the fiercest look she could muster. “Yes. Even knowing that, I still think I have a lot to thank you for… and I still trust you, too.”

Akechi came to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. A couple who had been walking behind them skirted them, but they did so with unwavering smiles and without even glancing at Akechi and Kasumi, even though it was incredibly rude that they had both stopped just like that. Unnerving. Everything was so unnerving these days, but Kasumi knew that no matter what happened, Akechi would be Akechi, and there was odd comfort in that.

The almost disdainful look he pinned her with was familiar by this point too, and Kasumi didn’t flinch in response to it. It was still better than those horrible smiles… and even so, she didn’t think Akechi was being entirely honest with _himself_ in moments like these.

“Listen to me closely,” he said, arms crossed in front of him. “To me, you are a useful tool. Your battle capabilities are enough that you are more of an assistance than a hindrance in the Palace thus far, as so I will put up with you. That is all you are to me--nothing more than that.”

Kasumi shook her head in immediate dissent. “That isn’t true--and even if it is, it isn’t something I’ll just accept, Akechi-san!”

Akechi faced her properly then, a tight frown on his face. “That is something you’ve simply decided, is it? I’m afraid you need someone to remind you, then. That is not for you to decide at all.”

His tone and gaze were both cold as he looked at her, frown morphing into something that was nearly a sneer. “It seems you’ve found your backbone over the past week or so. That does not matter to me either. We are not _friends_ , and I have no desire for it. Get it through your _thick_ head.”

The Kasumi of a week ago probably would have folded instantly under such harsh words. But the Kasumi of a week ago had never fought Shadows with the determination to give her all if it meant protecting her comrades. The Kasumi of a week ago had not known what it would be like to live in a world where everyone was performing the facade of happiness, and the Kasumi of a week ago hadn’t been aware that she was living some sort of lie.

The truth still eluded her grasp, but more and more, Kasumi was certain she was ready to at least _face that truth_.

So she took a deep breath, and met Akechi’s eyes once more. “Be that it may,” she said softly, because she couldn’t keep arguing with him when it would go nowhere, “I don’t want to leave you alone. I… we may not be friends, but even so…!”

She paused a moment, brow furrowing as she tried to find the words she wanted. Akechi’s gaze was unchanging, unaffected by her emotional entreaty, not that she’d expected anything else. She took in another deep breath, ready to try to put her thoughts in words, when she was knocked into from behind.

Kasumi hadn’t been expecting it; she stumbled with a wince, still a little sore from the lingering bruises and pain inflicted by the monstrous Shadow they’d encountered only a few days before. Akechi caught her by her upper arm, keeping her upright with a steel vice grip, jerking her to a halt before she hit the concrete. She dragged in a shaky, surprised breath and then righted herself easily, turning to look at the person who had knocked her over. The young man smiled back at her, expression perfectly vacant.

“Um…” was all Kasumi could think to say, quietly.

Akechi had no such compulsions; he scoffed. “Watch where you’re going, you buffoon.”

The young man looked blankly between both of them, smile only widening. Kasumi watched in horrified fascination as he seemed to process Akechi’s words as something totally different, responding easily, “Yes, everything is fine. We’re both just fine, thank goodness. It’s a nice day today, isn’t it?”

Akechi’s fingers tightened on her arm to the point that it hurt; Kasumi winced and looked over at Akechi, noting the way his eyes narrowed dangerously.

“It isn’t worth even speaking with these facsimiles of people,” he finally said with a sigh, releasing Kasumi abruptly. She rubbed her arm, watching the young man walk away with a troubled expression of her own. He said that so easily, but to her… this was so unnerving that she still didn’t know how to handle it.

“Akechi-san…” she said softly, and he looked at her with an arched eyebrow. 

“What?” he said, frown already forming on his face. “Are you still going to go on about the whole ‘trust’ thing that you were talking about before? You still do not have a single leg to stand on with that argument, so you should just--”

“You’re _real_ , Akechi-san!” Kasumi burst out, interrupting his arguments before he could continue. “Everything is wrong here, but you’ve always been so, _so_ real. I can trust you… to be Akechi-san. The Akechi-san who is blunt, and rude, and doesn’t really care about my well-being, but is still doing his best to make it through to the end of the Palace, so he’ll watch my back in fights. The Akechi-san who tells me the truth because he doesn’t see the point in lying, and who isn’t one of… one of _these_...!”

She gestured to the people walking by them. Not a single one of them stopped to even look at her in response. There was silence after her outburst, silence and her own ragged breathing that rang loudly in her ears, and then Akechi sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“... You may come to regret feeling that way,” he said simply, arching an eyebrow at her. “But I suppose you aren’t wrong even so. I’m not a mindless puppet--not yet. And I have no intentions of becoming one. If that alone is enough to leave you that pleased, then… fine. It is obviously a waste of time to argue with you over something so pointless.”

It felt a little bit like when Kasumi made small but pivotal breakthroughs in her routines. It didn’t feel like landing a difficult jump for the first time, or catching an apparatus from an ambitious fling. It wasn’t a breakthrough like that, not one of the large, showy ones. It felt more like how it felt when something important but quiet _clicked_ for the first time.

It felt like twirling her ribbon and feeling it fall in perfect circles around her for the very first time and knowing that for the rest of her life, she would know how to twitch her wrist just so to cause the cascade of shimmering fabric in just the right way, and Kasumi couldn’t help but smile as she dipped her head a little. Because this, too, was something she would never forget--Akechi, discomfited but finally accepting her words, even if only a little, an undoubted step forward.

“Thank you, Akechi-san!” she said cheerfully, and he scoffed immediately. “Stop thanking me. You’ve had your say--now it is just getting irritating.”

Even his exasperated tone couldn’t get her down, though, and she beamed brightly as she followed along with him as he continued to walk.

* * *

Even despite their breakthrough, Akechi shooed her off not long after that, citing that he wanted to do his research into the Palace’s ruler _unbothered_ , and Kasumi hadn’t wanted to press her luck. She’d been content enough with the progress they’d made, slight as it was, and so she obediently let him be.

That didn’t mean she had anywhere to be in particular, though. For a while, Kasumi just wandered Shibuya like a ghost, but in truth, the creepy grins of the people around her wore on her all the more quickly when she was alone. She checked her phone, but there were no messages from Akira. He was probably still talking with one of his teammates, which meant they wouldn’t be heading into the Palace just yet. It was still early for that anyway, now that she glanced at the time on her phone. Akechi was doing his research, Akira had his Phantom Thieves to worry about… that left only Kasumi at loose ends, with nothing to do to help their efforts.

So she went home.

Kasumi hadn’t entirely been aware that that was where her feet were taking her until she was standing in front of her door, blinking at it blankly. Still… now that she was here, there was nothing wrong with taking a breather, right? Quietly, Kasumi pushed open the door, closing it behind her gently.

Apparently, she wasn’t quiet enough, though. From down the hall, she heard a surprised, “--re? Is that you?”

Kasumi rubbed at her ear. Was the cold messing with her hearing…? Was that even a thing that could happen? She shook her head. “Yes, it’s me, dad! I’m home for a little bit.”

Shinichi came down the hall then, smiling at her. “How unusual. Lately, you’ve been out until late. I was starting to think you were trying to avoid me this winter break of yours.”

“Dad!” Kasumi was quick to shake her head. “That’s not it. I’ve just… been working on something with some friends, that’s all.”

“It must be important,” he commented casually. “You’ve looked pretty serious lately.”

Kasumi was quiet for a moment, before she began to properly tug off her coat. “Yeah,” she said softly in return. “It is pretty important. I’ve been trying to give it my all.”

“Your all, huh…” Shinichi sounded contemplative for a moment, before he shook his head. “Come on--have lunch with me. I was about to make something, and it’s been awhile now since we’ve sat down for lunch.”

Kasumi smiled a little. There was no reason not to, right? Akechi and Akira were undoubtedly still busy, and she hadn’t spent much time with her father as of late with how busy she’d been. Besides, their last conversation had… ended on a note that she’d like to try to smooth over now that she had the chance. She’d have time later, she was sure, especially after they completed the Palace, but for some reason… part of her kept urging her to do it now. She shrugged inwardly. No point to overthinking it. “Okay, dad! What are you making for lunch? Can I help?”

Her dad flashed her an almost rueful look, but then he shook his head. “Sure. Nothing fancy for lunch, just katsudon. You can help me out--you’ve always been welcome to help out with the cooking. You know that, right?”

Kasumi blinked. Something about that felt a little off, but… she just shook the thought away, moving towards the kitchen with her dad. Regardless of whether something was off or not, there was something soothing and peaceful about assisting her father in the kitchen. He was always so calm and gentle, and never seemed upset when she made mistakes. Cooking was something that she was able to do for herself, something she could do even better than her sister, even despite how good her sister was at everything else--

Wait.

Kasumi’s sister had been the one who was so very good at cooking. Sumire had always packed their lunches for both of them, because Kasumi…

She hissed out another breath as her head throbbed once more, one of the chopsticks she was using slipping from her fingers. Thankfully, it narrowly missed falling into the heating oil, instead clattering against the countertop. Kasumi knew what this headache meant now, though, which meant that instead of wanting to shrink away from it, it only made her feel all the fiercer. What _truth_ was she being kept away from? Every time she stumbled closer to understanding, something caused her to shy away. Could the Palace ruler really be watching her so closely as to be making sure to do this to her every time she even thought something close? Could said ruler hear their thoughts in this strange new reality?

“--re? Hey, Su--? Are you okay?” Shinichi’s voice broke through her thoughts and the throbbing in her head, and Kasumi straightened with a sharp intake of air.

“Yes! Yes, I’m fine. Sorry, dad, I didn’t mean to worry you. I guess, um… I guess I’m more tired than I thought.”

Shinichi didn’t look entirely convinced, but he just gave her a small, slightly strained smile and gestured towards the table. “Why don’t you sit down for a little bit? I think I can handle the rest.”

“Um, but--!” Kasumi began to protest, but he shook his head, expression growing a bit sterner.

“Rest,” he said firmly, pointing at the chair, and quietly, Kasumi obeyed, slumping into the chair with a faint sigh. As her father puttered around the kitchen, finishing up their meal, Kasumi propped her chin in her hand and dwelled. Was it really that the Palace ruler could read her thoughts? Was that how they always knew how close she was to the truth? In that case, they’d have had to have been watching her this whole time, a concept that was chilling.

But… something rang hollow about it.

If they could see her all the time, just like this, why were there so many cameras in the Palace’s architecture? How had the three of them infiltrated this far without being caught? No, she didn’t think the Palace’s ruler could see her all the time, nor could they read her thoughts. Which meant… what?

Why did those headaches always strike when she started to move closer to the truth? Who was stopping her from finding it out?

 _The clock is striking already._ Cendrillon whispered in her head. _Midnight--!_

Kasumi lifted her head slowly, her eyes widening as her hands fell to her lap limply. Cinderella had not had someone spying on her. Cinderella had not been forced to do anything. She’d simply been given a strong warning, and then fled on her own at the strike of midnight. She lifted her hands, and stared at her fingers with her lips slightly parted. They trembled slightly, and she couldn’t quite place when she’d started to shake.

It was _her_ , wasn’t it? She was the one keeping herself from the truth. She was her own guard, for whatever reason--for some reason, she could not allow herself to get closer to the truth that she so desperately felt she wanted to know.

She was jolted back to herself when Shinichi set a bowl in front of her on the table with a heavy _clunk_ , offering her her chopsticks after. Kasumi blinked, but obediently took them. Right… right now, she needed to focus on her dad, not everything else. She could examine what she’d figured out later.

(The later pile was getting a little overwhelming, she knew. If Kasumi thought too hard about it, she was afraid she’d start sinking as if the ideas and thoughts and hopes she’d set aside over the past week were quicksand, dragging her down the more she struggled.

Not now, she whispered to herself. Not now. Later. Hopefully before later was too late.)

She mustered up a big smile for her father. “Thanks, dad! This looks delicious. So… thanks for the food, I’m going to dig in!”

Kasumi did so for a few moments, enjoying the flavor of one of her favorite homemade meals, before slowly she processed that her father wasn’t eating his share, despite sitting across from her with his bowl in front of him. She paused, taking a moment to chew and swallow, before she tilted her head. “Is everything okay?”

“Ah.” Shinichi shook himself a little, before he mustered up a small smile for her. “Yes, of course. I was just thinking…”

Kasumi took a moment to eat another bite (it really _was_ delicious) before she asked, “Thinking about what?”

Her father hesitated briefly, but then he said simply, “I was thinking about what a relief it is to hear that you’re giving something your all again.”

Kasumi blinked, naked shock on her face. “Eh…?”

“It feels as though it’s been awhile,” he said, meeting her eyes firmly. The glasses she’d picked out with Akira’s help were so familiar, but even those she hadn’t been able to choose on her own, not completely, and the truth of what he was saying slammed into her more painfully than she was ready for. “You stopped giving gymnastics your all a while back.”

“That’s not--I didn’t stop giving it everything I had, dad!” Kasumi protested immediately, her hands clenching into fists in her lap. For some reason, her heart beat far too rapidly for a conversation like this. What was she so afraid of? She couldn’t tell. “I was just in a slump, that’s all. I was always trying my hardest.”

The way that her father looked at her for a long moment made Kasumi shift in place; she felt nothing more than like a small child in trouble for one of the many schemes she’d come up with, dragging Sumire along so that she wouldn’t be alone when they were inevitably caught.

Finally, he sighed, eyes sliding shut for a moment. “You were definitely trying. I won’t argue that. But there’s a difference between trying your hardest and giving it your all. It’s just been a long time since I’ve seen that from you, that’s all.”

Had her father always looked this tired? Kasumi couldn’t help but wonder as she slowly took a deep breath in, forcing herself to calm down. He was right, after all. She hadn’t been herself for a long time. If she wasn’t herself, then… how could she give all of herself to her gymnastics? Even more importantly, how could she bring back that easy smile she remembered from her father back to his face?

The silence dragged for a long moment, and then Kasumi forced a bright smile back onto her face. “I’m doing much better now! I think… having friends who are pushing me to be better is really helping. So you don’t have to worry about me so much, dad! I’m hanging in there just fine.”

He still didn’t look as reassured as she wanted him to, but even so, it was clear that at least some of the weight had slipped from Shinichi’s shoulders. For now, that would have to be enough, she thought--but Kasumi was careful to keep her mood chipper and cheerful for the rest of their lunch together. Their conversation moved to less emotionally charged topics, and Kasumi engaged full heartedly. It was strange, she realized only after that lunch. She felt like she’d been far, far away from her father, as if she’d been drifting for a long time, and had only just noticed.

Still, it couldn’t last forever. Soon enough, her phone buzzed, and she knew that Akira and Akechi were ready to begin again. She was needed, and that meant she couldn’t hesitate.

Having lunch was nice, Kasumi thought to herself firmly as she tugged on her coat again, giving him a jaunty wave. She’d make sure to make more time for him, so they could get closer again.

As Kasumi tugged out her phone to confirm to Akira that she would meet him and Akechi both at the Palace, she couldn’t help but feel like that wouldn’t be enough, that she was still drifting away, and that if she wasn’t careful, she might drift right out of her father’s grasp. She carefully navigated around the myriad of cracks in the screen to tap out her reply.

Then she shook away any melodramatic thoughts, tugged on her gloves, and headed out into the cold.

* * *

“The door is still open, Senpai,” Kasumi whispered, peering around the corner to check. Akira, peering from the other corner, nodded as well.

“And the Shadow that we ran into that first time is still gone,” he murmured thoughtfully. “Good… we should be able to proceed just fine.”

Akechi pushed against the wall to stand properly, instead of remaining hidden; he strolled over to the door as if without a care. Nothing attacked him, and after glancing at Akira briefly and after his answering shrug, Kasumi left her own hiding space to trot after him.

The door slid open as they approached. No headache plagued her either; Kasumi wondered about that, despite herself. Was it because she’d already faced herself here? Had she even learned anything here? Or was she simply running away from what she’d learned, avoiding the same truth that she’d been avoiding for long enough that she was now brought to this point--

Akira stepped past her and through the door. Akechi followed, leaving only Kasumi in the room. She stared up at the door as the questions spun through her head. She needed to answer them soon, she knew; they nipped at her heels now more urgently than ever. But now was not the time for deep soul-searching. The other two were waiting for her, and she’d promised them she wouldn’t slow them down, no matter what.

So with a deep breath, Kasumi crossed the threshold of the door.

The panel above blinked green for a moment, before robotic text scrolled across. _YS - 002_.

Kasumi didn’t question it. Instead, she stepped forward to rejoin Akira and Akechi, blinking as she realized why they hadn’t called out to her to hurry it up. They were far too distracted taking in the change of decor, and Kasumi couldn’t blame them. Gone were the white walls and hallways and tile that they were so used to by this point. Gone were the well-tended plants and the stiff-looking and yet oddly comfortable couches. The lighting was more dim now, but even so Kasumi could clearly see the dark, smooth walls. They were still white, she thought vaguely. It was just so dark in here that they seemed more like a grimy grey. The few lights they could see cast a dim, nearly purple light over the whole place, and revealed that they’d walked into a place that carried a much different feel from the sterile air of the previous area.

Kasumi slowly twirled in a circle, heels clicking on purple tile, head tilted back as she stared up, and up, and up. The ceiling was so far away that she could barely see it in the shadows cast by the lack of light, though she thought she spied the glint of cameras, menacing and hidden, way up at the top.

“Well,” Akechi said, finally breaking the silence. “I suppose it is about time we get a change of scenery.”

Akira’s hands were in his pockets as he looked around; Kasumi glanced over to him as he craned his neck back to stare up at the ceiling for a moment, rocking back and forth on his heels idly as he did so.

“Huh,” he finally said in response. “This place makes more sense.”

Kasumi tilted her head at that. “It does…?”

“Sure.” Akira nodded, lowering his gaze to sweep it around them again. “This place seems a bit more like what I’d expect from someone who has a Palace, not the super tidy and clean facade we were dealing with before. This place is… cluttered. Claustrophobic.”

“A little shattered,” Akechi tacked on, tapping the tile beneath them with a toe. Kasumi hadn’t noticed before, but gone were the neat and tidy, seamlessly matched together tile from before. She’d processed that the floor was purple now, but it was only then that she realized the tile was in large, mismatched, misshapen shards. She frowned.

“So you’re saying this is closer to the Palace ruler’s actual mind?” she asked, propping her hands on her hips as she looked around.

Akira nodded a little. “It’s likely. At the very least, we’re making tangible progress now. Which, speaking of… we should stop standing around. Are you two ready?”

“We’ve _been_ ready, Joker,” Akechi answered for the both of them, and Kasumi simply nodded her agreement alongside him, a small smile on her face.

“This place is a little creepy,” she said simply, shrugging a little. “But we’ve already been through worse. I don’t think we can be stopped at all here!”

That got a grin out of Akira, before he turned with a flick of his coat to lead the way.

The dramatic shift in their surroundings was more than enough to distract Kasumi from the inherent creepiness of how silent it was. They heard nothing but their own footsteps as they walked, and even those were muffled. It was as if something was holding its breath, watching them but waiting for… something.

What are you waiting for? Kasumi asked the quiet in the safety of her own head, running her fingers idly along the wall as they walked. There was no answer, of course, but her fingers _did_ snag on what felt almost like paper, and Kasumi came to a stop, blinking.

“Joker-senpai!” she murmured, unwilling to be louder even though they seemed to be alone. It was loud enough regardless; he paused, glancing at her over his shoulder.

“What is it?”

“I think there are posters along these walls,” she said. A moment later, it struck her how entirely unimportant that detail might’ve been, and she flushed a little. “Um, I just thought maybe we’d want to know what they said, but--”

“What does it say?” To Kasumi’s surprise, it was Akechi who responded first, turning immediately on his heel to squint at the poster her fingers were still gently pressed to. No matter how closely he peered, though, he couldn’t seem to make it out in the incredibly dim lighting.

“Tch…” Akechi clicked his tongue, shaking his head. “I can’t read it. Joker?”

“I’ll take a look,” Akira said from behind them; it nearly made Kasumi jump. Honestly, sometimes he was so quiet it wasn’t healthy for the rest of them… but she kept that to herself as he squinted at the poster as well. There was a flash to his eyes that felt somewhat familiar, like Kasumi had seen it before, and then Joker nodded.

“This one says ‘Happiness is Health’,” he reported, as Kasumi stared at him.

“You can read it even in this poor lighting?” she asked, eyebrows arched, to which he just shrugged a little with a grin.

“I’m good at seeing in the dark,” he said, which explained both so little and so much all at once, at least in terms of how he did it and also how he led them through the Palace so unerringly. Kasumi blinked, but before she could pursue that line of questioning, Akechi was already moving onward.

“Propaganda, then,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “What about the others? You said ‘this one’, so I assume there are different posters?”

Akira nodded, strolling forward with his hands still tucked into his pockets. “Yeah, that’s right. Like… this one over here.”

He jerked his thumb to a poster that, to Kasumi, just looked like a lighter version of the other one with how little she could make out in the dark.

“This one’s about euda-- eudaimo--”

“Eudaimonia,” Akechi cut in, crossing his arms. “Interesting. More of this ‘happiness’ garbage, but on the most scientific side of things.”

Akira pursed his lips petulantly--even in the dim lighting, Kasumi could see that much--and muttered, “I knew how to say it”, which Akechi promptly ignored. She figured she wasn’t going to get much help from that end, so she shrugged a little and took the plunge.

“What’s eudaimonia?” she asked, peering closer at the poster. She still couldn’t read a bit of it, but she could maybe make out what looked like people smiling slightly too-large smiles.

Akechi hummed contemplatively. “I’m not particularly well-versed in it, mind you, but anyone who has studied any philosophy is at least familiar with the concept. In a sense, it was believed to be the highest potential ‘good’ a human being could strive to live. As for what that good _is_ , that depends entirely on the school of thought you follow. Naturally, if we as humans already had a definitive understanding of the ‘best good’, things would be very different.”

Kasumi felt like she was following, at least until that last statement. When he said that, she tilted her head. “What do you mean…?”

“Think about it for a moment,” Akechi said, though he didn’t sound particularly irritated by her lack of understanding. “If there was some definitive, perfect, utopian ‘goodness’, and we knew precisely what we had to do as humans to achieve it, what purpose would there be in doing anything else? In a sense, we would have the formula necessary to achieve happiness, and would only have to follow that formula to reach perfect happiness, and therefore the ideal life.”

Theoretically, Kasumi thought that sounded okay… though something about it rubbed her the wrong way even so. She didn’t want some sort of perfect formula for happiness--she just wanted to be able to live her life the best way she could. With a distinct, perfect, formulaic way to find happiness, wouldn’t they all just be like those people who walked around Shibuya with the same blank, wide smiles on their faces? She peered at the poster more closely, but still could not make out anything more than grey blocks of color.

“Isn’t that just brainwashing?” Kasumi asked, the words leaving her lips before she could think about them. They made Akechi laugh, while Akira frowned, not at Kasumi but rather as if he had just had something serious click in his mind.

“Very _good_ , Yoshizawa-san.” Akechi clapped his hands together, giving her the muffled applause of only one. “Naturally, the theory itself is not brainwashing. It is merely a philosophical question to explore and contemplate. However, applying one’s own personal perception of what leads to a perfectly eudaimon life to other people is when we start to get into that territory.”

Akira breathed out a soft sigh, tilting his head back with his eyes closed for a moment. “... Like the people who are acting weird right now. They’ve had someone else’s understanding of that perfect happiness layered over their actual lives and personalities.”

“Correct,” Akechi said, nodding. He crossed his arms then. “That is my working theory, at least. Finding this here is no surprise, considering what we know of our Palace ruler. Their arrogance, at least, suits the sweeping nature of this unnecessarily large place.”

Kasumi frowned, biting her lip. “They’re trying to help people, but…”

“... But according to only their own morals, right? Without even stopping to think about what everyone else might think of this,” Akira finished for her. “So… a bit like what you accused the Phantom Thieves of doing back then.”

Kasumi covered her mouth immediately with both of her gloved hands, expression horrified. “Senpai! I--obviously what you and the Phantom Thieves were doing wasn’t--! I mean, I didn’t mean…!”

He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his head. “No, it’s okay. I didn’t say that to make you feel bad. I said it because I think that back then, you had a point. You said that your worry was that the Phantom Thieves would stop people from standing up for themselves and doing things for themselves. That if everyone could just lean on the Phantom Thieves, they would forget how to strive for their own happiness.”

Kasumi nodded mutely, slowly lowering her hands. Akira met her eyes firmly. “Now we’ve seen what that looks like, I think. It’s a pretty grim outcome after all.”

“Yeah… it is.” Kasumi took a deep breath, turning her gaze back to the poster. “Even if their intentions are good… part of being human is figuring out some of this stuff for ourselves, right? What’s the point of perfect happiness if it’s not our own happiness that we attained?”

“Certainly a philosophical question to ponder,” Akechi said, tone more amused than anything. “Regardless, I believe it is safe to say that these posters lining the walls have something to do with this Palace’s ruler and what their intentions are. I do hope the lighting improves so I can read them for myself.”

“Why don’t we bring one with us?” Kasumi asked, and without hesitating she reached out to rip the poster down, folding it up and offering it to Akechi. He blinked at her for a moment before he accepted it carefully in his clawed hands.

“You really do not hesitate when it comes to some things, don’t you?” he asked, expression amused once again. “You and Joker both vandalize this place without hesitation.”

“Yep,” Akira said in response, popping the ‘p’ at the end of the word casually. “It’s cathartic.” His posture as he began to continue to walk was equally casual, hands behind his head and elbows up, and it was natural how both Akechi and Kasumi fell into line to follow him deeper into the Palace.

Still, there was one thing niggling at Kasumi that she couldn’t let go. “Hey, Akechi-san? You said that that poster was ‘more scientific’, but then you only talked about the philosophy of eudaimonia. What did you mean?”

Akechi was quiet for a moment, but it wasn’t the silence of him ignoring her. Instead, he seemed to be pondering the question, one hand coming up to the bottom of his mask as they walked. Finally, he cleared his throat and straightened. “There is a psychological school of thought associated with eudaimonia as well. This isn’t surprising, considering its connection to general human happiness. Still, it’s curious...”

“Hm?” Kasumi blinked. “What’s curious?”

Akechi didn’t look at her, his gaze instead focused on Akira’s coattails as they walked. Still, he answered nonetheless, his tone very difficult for her to read. “A large portion of psychological eudaimonia deals with the concept of ‘self-actualization’. In a sense, to become one’s true self.”

He chuckled to himself, but it was bleak. “What a joke.”

Akechi fell silent after that, and Kasumi didn’t ask for further clarification. Instead, she frowned a little to herself. A Palace ruler who wanted everyone to be happy, but only according to their own beliefs about happiness. A Palace ruler who believed they knew what was best for everyone, but still referenced self-actualization as if that was possible when someone else was pulling her strings.

The bitter taste on her tongue was unexpected; she hadn’t expected to feel quite so strongly about this. But as she clenched her hands into fists, her eyes narrowing as she stalked forward, stiff-legged, she couldn’t help but feel like Akechi was right.

This was all just an absolutely terrible joke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another two parter of a day--I got a little overenthusiastic about their Palace exploration for this day as well. We're getting close now though; just one more full day, and we meet up again with canon.
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading and for all of your kind words!


	8. 1/7 - Part Two

“Shadow, Joker,” Akechi hissed out quietly, peering around the corner cautiously.

Akira nodded quietly, adjusted his gloves, and crouched down to prepare. Kasumi, pressed to the wall a few steps behind, reached for her sword. The Shadows in this area had proven to be tougher, but not substantially so; for the three of them, now that they had learned how to more competently work together, they didn’t pose much of a threat at all.

Like a bullet from his own carefully modified gun, Akira launched himself around the corner at just the right time, neatly ridding the Shadow of its mask and taking it thoroughly off guard. Kasumi and Akechi followed a carefully planned step behind. Akechi took one look at the Shadows before them and scoffed in plain disgust.

“I’m up first, then. This won’t take long,” he snarled, reached out towards the nearest Chimera with a clawed hand. Loki appeared at his silent bidding, slamming dark energy rimmed with black into the creature.

It was a hit to its weakness; they all knew that by now. Kasumi had all of these Shadows’ weaknesses memorized by now; it was absolutely no surprise then that Akechi did as well. He laughed, a sound unhinged enough to still cause the hairs at the back of her neck to stand up, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t mean her any harm, only the Shadows, and Kasumi knew what came next.

She stepped forward neatly, and slapped his outstretched hand with her own, feeling the rush of power that surged through her. “Right! Cendrillon, we’re next!”

She stepped forward once more, a pace and then two in front of Akechi, and then her Persona appeared, all crystalline grace. Cendrillon danced forward and then sliced straight through the second Chimera with her deceptively sharp edges. It would have stunned the creature if not for Akechi’s power boost; with it, it rent the Shadow to nothingness.

Kasumi smiled a satisfied smile, and held out her hand. “Senpai! You’re up!”

There were two Shadows left alongside the one Akechi had knocked prone to the ground, but those odds were no concern when it came to Akira. He stepped forward, both Kasumi and Akechi’s faith only adding to his remarkable power, and lifted a hand to his mask.

“You’re finished,” he said, voice eerily calm, and then his mask faded away into flames as a Persona Kasumi was only vaguely familiar with appeared. Mother Harlot, he’d called it once. Keeping track of Akira’s Personas was another full time task, and honestly Kasumi didn’t feel the need. Akira could keep track of them just fine and knew just which to use in just the right circumstances, and that was more than enough for her.

The Persona was the right choice at this moment as well. The Maeigaon erased the Shadows from existence, ending the fight decisively, and Kasumi slowly relaxed as the battle came to an abrupt end. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to the adrenaline rush that accompanied a fight, especially those that were too short for her to really make use of it. If she wasn’t in the middle of a Palace and felt this way, it was the sort of thing that would have gotten her to run laps in an attempt to rid herself of the twitchy feeling.

Still, it felt nice to so competently finish the battle as a team, she felt, lifting her chin with a smile.

Akechi didn’t seem near as thrilled. “Pathetic. Weak creatures like those should know better than to stand in our way.”

“It wasn’t so bad, Akechi-san,” Kasumi said. It didn’t even strike her that this was a sort of boldness that she hadn’t had with him before; she was too used to Akechi now to be bothered by the thought of disagreeing with him. “It’s nice to know that we can handle these Shadows just fine, isn’t it?”

Akechi scoffed. “That is just a given. After all, if we could not do that by this point, there would be no way we could handle the Palace’s ruler. It’s hardly anything worth celebrating.”

“Mm, I suppose so,” Kasumi agreed, tilting her head a little in curiosity. That was a little factoid she hadn’t heard yet, and hadn’t thought too hard about. “I didn’t think about that… we’ll have to fight the Palace’s ruler?”

Akechi laughed, a grating and unpleasant sound. “Does this look like the inner mind and heart of someone who would be willing to listen to reason? A fight is inevitable at this point.”

She sighed at that, unable to argue, instead nodding quietly. It wasn’t something she’d thought about before now, but she supposed that the Phantom Thieves must have always fought the rulers of the Palaces they’d infiltrated before this. It was most likely old hat for Akira. But she’d never done so before, and thinking about fighting this Palace’s ruler as her first encounter made her feel oddly...sad. Sad and bitter both, and she wasn’t about to shy away from it, but there was something about how the Palace’s ruler didn’t seem to _intend_ harm that made things more complicated.

All Kasumi said, though, was, “I suppose that’s true.”

From ahead of them, Akira said, “Hey, you two, come take a look at this.”

Kasumi blinked, swapped a glance with Akechi, and shrugged a little. Akira had pulled away from them a little bit while they’d conversed; she trotted the remainder of the way to make it to his side, peering over the railing he indicated. It seemed as though they were overlooking an auditorium of sorts; spreading out in waves below them were rows of tidy chairs, each and every one filled with a patiently waiting, smiling audience member. The stage was empty, and in contrast to the hallways they’d been traversing until now, the entire auditorium was brightly lit.

“Curious,” Akechi murmured from Akira’s other side, leaning against the railing contemplatively. “Is our mysterious Palace ruler a professor, or simply a wannabe professor? I doubt they are a student with this set-up.”

Kasumi blinked at him, and perhaps used to her questions or perhaps just correctly reading the slight puzzlement on her face, Akechi explained simply, “No student would focus in their own hearts on the stage as the most brightly lit, center point of this auditorium. No, our Palace ruler has a rather inflated opinion of whatever it is they want to share with their students.”

Akira was unusually silent, lips pressed together in a firm line and eyes fixed on the stage, and Akechi blinked as he looked at him. There was something that passed between them silently then, and Akechi narrowed his eyes.

“... Joker, do you know who--”

“The lecture will resume in two hours’ time,” a voice murmured peacefully from the speakers. “Please remain seated. The lecture will be of great importance to understanding your own happiness, and how to change your lives for the better.”

There was a buzz of voices from the Shadows in the seats below, but rather than a grumpy tone Kasumi had expected from a group of people that had been asked to wait an additional two hours, they sounded perfectly content. They gushed, they sighed contentedly, and they all agreed that waiting would be absolutely worth it if it meant they could find their perfect happiness.

Kasumi made a face.

“Later,” Akira said stiffly, his eyes still fixed on the scene below them. “I’ll tell you guys later, so… please wait. I’m not entirely sure, so I just...want to confirm a few things first.”

Akechi didn’t look entirely pleased, but he didn’t argue it. “Fine,” he said instead with an exaggerated sigh. “We may as well continue then. I would suggest we prepare ourselves, however; stepping on that stage feels like bad news.”

Kasumi, inspecting the stage in the middle of the auditorium under the sharp white glare of the fluorescent lighting, found that she agreed with Akechi’s assessment. The only way to the door beyond was across that center stage, and no matter how she looked at it, it felt like they would be up against a fight if they even tried.

“Then we handle whatever they throw at us,” Akira said simply and firmly, and then with a flick of his coat tails, he turned to start heading down the long ramp to the auditorium proper.

Akira snorted vaguely to himself. “It _is_ rather difficult to see the inner soul of someone you liked and trusted, isn’t it, Joker…?” he asked to no one in particular, before he started to follow.

Kasumi leaned over the railing, peering down at the endless rows of mirrored, uncanny smiles. It had to be someone Akira knew, Akechi was most likely right. Akira knew who the Palace ruler was, or at least suspected, and he wasn’t happy about it. But who… was it? For some reason, Kasumi felt as though if she was able to give it just a little bit more thought, she’d be able to find the answer for herself. Who did she know who--

Akechi and Akira were approaching the center stage, and Kasumi hastily trotted down the ramp to join them, down the aisle between the rows of seats, shaking away those thoughts. As they approached, a Shadow in clean slacks and a tidy lab coat appeared front and center, right before the trio of stairs that led up onto the lecture stage proper.

“Please return to your seats,” the Shadow said. “You must wait patiently for the lecture to begin.”

Akira rocked back on his heels for a moment, hands in his pockets, as if considering that. And then he shrugged. “Don’t wanna. We’re going to keep going.”

“Return to your seats,” the Shadow said again, slowly beginning to bulge beneath its mask. The lab coat was torn in half as it grew and grew and grew, malformed blackness twisting just beneath the surface. “Return to your seats. Return to your seats. The lecture--”

Akira snagged his knife and sprang forward then. He dug the edge of the blade beneath the Shadow’s mask and leveraged it off with a quick twist of his wrist, sending the thing flying--and Akechi caught it, crushing the mask within one clawed hand. Then the Shadow was there, lunging towards them with a neat swipe of its spear, and Akira ducked out of the way with a sharp _tch_.

“Cu Chulainn!” he called out in warning. “Crow--!”

Akechi swung for the Shadow with a gutteral snarl, but the reach of its spear was far longer than Akechi’s sword; he was forced to backpedal a little, ducking and avoiding swings with frenetic speed.

“I know, I know!” he responded sharply, pausing only just long enough to avoid another spear swipe. “It counters! I _did_ use one of these against you, remember?!”

Kasumi ignored them both. The way Cu Chulainn held his spear felt vaguely familiar in the way he held it outstretched and extended, and Kasumi blinked as it slowly came to her. Ah. Of course. It was a bit of a crazy idea, but if it worked…

“I’m taking my turn next, Akechi-san!” Kasumi called out, and then she took a deep breath and took a proper, running start. He glanced over his shoulder, only vaguely startled, but mostly trusting her not to stab him in the back; that was something she felt warm about even in a moment as tense and hasty as this.

One long step past Akechi, two, and then she flung herself forward. She didn’t have a springboard to use to get air here; Kasumi would have to count on herself. She flipped forward instead, pressing the palms of her hands flat against the ground and springing herself forward that way. A tight tuck in the air for momentum, a careful moment to judge where she was, and then… she landed, as neat as if she’d been using a balance beam instead, on the Shadow’s outstretched spear. She balanced there carefully, one foot in front of the other, and marveled for a moment at how easy her Phantom Thief heels were to balance on--in any other normal, non-magical heels, she’d never have been able to attempt this maneuver.

And then she shook her head and lifted her chin. She met the Shadow’s eyes, and didn’t flinch.

“Joker-senpai! Akechi-san! I’m leaving this to you!” she called out, and then she grabbed the spear’s hilt tightly in one gloved hand and launched herself forward once more. Kasumi planted both heels against the Shadow’s face and used it as a springboard, flipping backwards tidily, grip still tight on the spear, and yanking the weapon right from the stunned Shadow’s grasp as she soared through the air.

She landed easily, lifted her hand with the spear in it upwards as if to strike a pose, the automatic rush of accomplishing such a difficult finishing move dragging out of her long gained instincts. _Hold the pose_ , her coach’s voice echoed in her head from long repetition. _The simplest mistake you can make it letting your relief sink in too soon._

And in front of her, Akechi and Akira’s Personas both lashed out, a combined assault of electricity and darkness slamming the weaponless, defenseless Shadow into the ground. Akechi swung his gaze towards her and scoffed. “What do you think you’re _doing_ , Yoshizawa-san? Stop posing and let’s finish this!”

She tossed the spear away with a startled noise, cheeks flushing and deeply grateful that her mask hid that fact, and followed them both forward for one last full assault. The Shadow faded into wisps of black smoke. Kasumi glanced over her shoulder, and realized that their audience had not moved, and neither had their unnerving grins.

Quietly, she held her arms with a shiver that was more internal than external.

“Well then,” Akechi said simply, brushing himself off. “Shall we continue?”

Akira waved him on, and paused just long enough to rest a hand on Kasumi’s shoulder. “I know,” he said softly. “It’s pretty unnerving. But these are just Shadows--and we’re going to help everyone who’s like this outside of the Palace.”

Kasumi nodded firmly, dragging in a deep, steadying breath. “You’re right, Senpai. I won’t give up, don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t,” he said simply, offering her a smile. He moved past her then, taking the stairs up onto the stage--though when he made it there, he just grinned and tossed over his shoulder, “Nice moves, by the way.”

Kasumi flushed, pressing her gloved hands to hot cheeks as she watched him continue. Honestly, it wasn’t fair that with just a few words and a grin he could leave her feeling so scrambled… but they were both moving on, and Kasumi shook her head firmly to try to get it back on straight and hastily followed, stepping onto the stage with a feeling of lowkey dread. The spotlights were trained on them now, and all three were tense. But the auditorium was silent, and not a single one of the smiling Shadows moved towards them.

Akechi hummed thoughtfully. “Is that all? I was expecting more--”

He took another step forward, and that was when the floor dropped out beneath all three of them.

It happened so suddenly Kasumi didn’t even have the chance to scream; her breath caught in the back of her throat instead as she fell into darkness that was too deep for her to see anything. The wind tugged at her coat tails and ponytail, loosening the bow that kept it in place, and she cast about desperately for Akira and Akechi in the darkness.

She couldn’t see either of them. She opened her mouth to call for them, but the fall stole her breath away before she could manage a single noise, and then, suddenly, there was light. She landed in a chair, plush enough that the landing only stunned her for a moment; she ached a little, but it wasn’t anything crippling. Far more immediately troublesome was how she had fallen into a bright white room, with lights trained a little too intensely on her face. After the fall through the darkness, it left spots in her vision; Kasumi lifted a gloved hand to try to cover her eyes, squinting through slight cracks in her fingers to try to see where she was, grasping hastily for her sword just in case she was attacked while she was off-guard.

Nothing attacked her.

Slowly, Kasumi’s vision adjusted, and just as slowly, she lowered her hands. She was seated in a chair in front of a screen; when she looked around, she realized very quickly that she was the only one in the small room.

“Akechi-san? Joker-senpai?” she whispered quietly, doing one more quick sweep of the room with her rapidly darting vision.

There was nowhere they could have been hiding.

She was alone.

Calm. Deep breaths. It was true that Kasumi was used to Akechi and Akira being by her side at this point, but just because they’d been separated didn’t mean she should lose her head. The other two could most certainly take care of themselves, which meant Kasumi had to handle herself as best she could as well, and find a way to meet with them. Slowly, she stood, wincing a little as she rested a hand at her lower back.

“Agh,” she muttered to herself. It wasn’t any pain she was unfamiliar with though--she and Sumire had always been covered in plenty of bruises from falling while attempting difficult jumps and elements--so she put it out of her head rather than waste the energy healing some bruises, and instead began to look around the room.

She’d already noted that it was very empty; now she noted the rest. The walls were bright white, and the tile of the floor was as well. It felt like it belonged more with the previous area of the Palace than this one, and Kasumi tapped the tip of her shoe against one of the tiles thoughtfully as she contemplated this. If Akechi were here, he most certainly would’ve had some theory or other, but he wasn’t. She had only herself, and if she thought about it…

“So this is more like… the lab sort of area? Or… well, for patients, too, there was a lot of that…” she muttered her thoughts to herself as she moved around the room. There were posters along the wall, and Kasumi stared at one blankly as she thought. _Happiness is Health_ , it said. Those were the same words Akira had mentioned that other poster saying. Kasumi moved to the next wall. _Escape that which Brings you Pain_ , said the next poster.

“... A clinical exam room?” she murmured to herself, and that was when the screen turned on. There was a Shadow on the screen, one of the lady-like Shadows with a clipboard and a lab coat, and though Kasumi couldn’t see her eyes, she presumed the Shadow was looking at her.

“Welcome to your treatment,” the Shadow said. “Please, relax and make yourself at home. Soon, we will have exactly the information we need to be able to customize your care to bring you the greatest possible happiness in your life.”

Kasumi’s eyes narrowed. Automatically, she reached into the back of her mind for Cendrillon...and grasped nothing. Don’t panic, she told herself. Don’t panic. Cendrillon wasn’t gone, there was just something about this room preventing her from reaching her. That was all. Cendrillon was waiting for her, she just had to find a way out of this stifling, claustrophobic room.

“Please, take a seat,” the Shadow said, staring at her.

Kasumi frowned. “I’m more comfortable standing.”

The Shadow stared at her for a long, long moment, checked off something on her clipboard, and moved on. “I have a series of questions to ask you. Please answer honestly. It is important for your care to be honest with yourself.”

Her ribbon was drooping, Kasumi noted vaguely. It must have been from the fall; her hair was now barely held up in a limp ponytail at all. Vaguely, she lifted her hands to tug at the ribbon so she could fix it.

“Here is the first question.” The Shadow cleared her throat. The screen shifted, and Kasumi’s eyes snapped to it immediately when a picture of the school’s gymnastics team appeared on it. It was the most recent picture; Kasumi remembered the photo op day. It had been after the first competition where she’d performed poorly, and that reflected on her face. While her teammates looked pleased, happy even to be taking the photo, some of them flashing v-signs and with wide grins, Kasumi was slightly off to the side by herself, head downcast. She was smiling still, but Kasumi knew it as if it had been only yesterday: the smile had been fake, like so many of her smiles had been of late.

“You have worked incredibly hard for a dream that you wish to achieve. However, the dream is no closer to being achievable than it was before, despite all of that hard work.”

Kasumi’s brow furrowed a little at that, her lips pressed into a tight line.

The Shadow continued, “Pursuing this dream is only causing you pain and alienating you from the people around you. If you were to give up the dream, you would be able to possibly mend those bridges and lead a happy, peaceful existence.

What do you do?”

That seemed like a leading question if she’d ever heard one, but it was a question that _hurt_ as well. Was that how her pursuit of her dream appeared to other people? Did it truly seem like such a fool’s errand that even Shadows were urging her to give it up now?

Kasumi lifted her chin, finished tying her hair back with a firm tug on the ends of her bow, and said calmly, “I would continue to pursue my dream. I would want to mend those bridges, of course… but not at the cost of what I personally believe I should be doing with my life.”

The Shadow stared at her for a long moment, and then made a little note on her clipboard. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“I am very sure,” Kasumi said. “That is my answer.”

Quietly, she rested her hands on the back of the chair in front of her, dragging in a deep, calm breath. Imposing one’s own happiness on someone else was akin to brainwashing them, Akechi had said. Kasumi was starting to see that for herself very clearly. Her fingers curled over the top rail of the white, empty chair.

The Shadow tsk’d. “You may be in need of more help than we first thought, dear!”

Kasumi thought her tone was most likely supposed to be comforting, or at least humorous; in this situation, though, it only left her feeling cold. It felt like the facsimile of comfort, like someone who was alien to human emotions attempting to pretend the same. But then, Kasumi reflected, eyes narrowing further as the Shadow checked her clipboard, that was exactly what was happening here, wasn’t it?

She had to get out of here. This was a huge waste of time. She was worried about Akechi and Akira--were they in the same situation, or something more dangerous than this? Kasumi shifted her gaze from the screen to the room again, but even her exit from above was long gone, closed over by ceiling when she had been getting her bearings before. There were no doors here. Wryly, Kasumi wondered if that was an unintentional metaphor.

“Next question, then,” the Shadow said. Kasumi nudged the chair a little, blinking. Huh… it was moving, wasn’t it? The chair wasn’t bolted down. She supposed that made sense; she was supposed to be sitting in it, after all.

“Are you paying attention?” the Shadow said with a scoff, and Kasumi blinked, lifting her head. She didn’t bother to answer, though; her instincts told her to apologize, but she wasn’t feeling too terribly apologetic towards this creature, and the more her impatience sunk in, the less time she wanted to spend making nice with a Shadow of all things.

At Kasumi’s lack of an answer, the Shadow simply sighed and repeated, “Here is your question. If you were given the opportunity to change society, with no risk to yourself involved, would you take it?”

That got a blink out of Kasumi. It was immensely different from the previous question, and as it slowly sunk in, her lips twitched into a faint smile.

“I wonder what the ‘right answer’ is for this one…?” she asked the ceiling, head tilted back. “Akechi-san and Joker-senpai would both have different answers… but I think I know my own answer still, even if it may not be the right one.”

She lowered her chin to stare the Shadow down. “I would not be a Phantom Thief, and I still believe the Phantom Thieves shouldn’t be relied on too heavily. It’s true that maybe I was a little too hard on them before… and it’s true, too, that I’m acting as one now…”

Kasumi trailed off for a moment, her lips pursing. It did undermine her argument a little, but she knew that even so, that didn’t necessarily make her _wrong_ either.

“But I still believe that every person in the world should be able to rely on themselves. We can’t count on some mysterious person to come save us every time we need saving--we need to be able to stand on our own sometimes too, and we also need to be able to reach out for help when we ourselves need it. That’s part of being a human being.”

The Shadow stared at her. Kasumi wondered what its expression would have been if it could have had a proper face. But no… it was only a Shadow. That meant it was merely a reflection of humanity at best, right? There was no point in wasting time pondering what a filtered down conception thought of her beliefs. Kasumi’s fingers flexed around the rails of the chair again.

“You are an incomprehensible patient,” the Shadow said, voice tetchy. Kasumi’s eyebrows arched. She was pretty sure that was not what was ever supposed to be said to any patient, but maybe that meant she was getting under the Shadow’s metaphorical skin? It also probably meant all of her answers had been “wrong”, at least as far as the Shadow was concerned, but Kasumi really and sincerely did not care about that at all anymore. Instead, she tilted her head, squinting at the distance between herself and the screen. Not far--this was a small room after all.

“Are you listening? Are you ignoring me again?” the Shadow sounded fully irritated now. “Do you even _want_ to be happy?”

Kasumi laughed, the noise startling even herself. “Is that my third question?” she asked the Shadow, but she didn’t wait for a response. Kasumi had wasted too much time already in this place, and now she had a plan. So instead of carrying on the farce, she lifted the chair, and flung it directly at the screen.

As she’d suspected, there had been _some_ sort of protection in place; the chair slammed into the screen and was charred immediately by the electrical shock that slammed into it. But it did its job as well. The screen cut out, and with it no longer properly on, Kasumi could see her way out easily. There were lights on behind that screen, and why would there be lights without something _to_ light?

She pulled out her rapier, striding over towards the screen with confident, poised steps.

“Of course I want to be happy.” Kasumi slid a finger over the once-white stile of the chair, now an ashy grey. The tip of her finger came back covered in ash. That could have been her, very easily. But it seemed trusting her instincts wasn’t such a terrible idea after all.

“Everyone wants to be happy in some way or another,” she continued, lifting her blade neatly, inspecting the screen carefully. “But there are other things that are just as important. I want my friends to be happy too--happy in the way _they_ want to be happy.” 

She lined up her blade, and sliced straight through the screen. It cut easily, a deep slit straight through the middle.

“I want my dad to stop worrying about me so much…!” Another slice, this one across the top.

A third slice down the other side, and Kasumi fiercely said, “And I want to achieve my dream! The dream that my sister and I share!”

The chair dropped from a screen that was now too limp to hold it up, and the chunk of screen she’d cut out like a doorway flopped to the floor as well. There was now an easy exit to the hallway that had lurked behind the screen, and beyond it, she could see more doors. Good. The way out, as she’d thought.

Kasumi stepped forward, through the exit she’d created for herself, and then paused with her hand on the white wall beyond.

“... I guess I was just talking to myself back there, huh…?” she murmured, and then with a mix of giddiness from her escape and quiet embarrassment, she had to stifle a giggle behind her hand. Then she clenched her hands into fists in front of her. “Okay. Time to find Akechi-san and Joker-senpai.”

She didn’t have to go far; there were plenty of doors lining the immediate hallway she’d found herself in. While it split off in two different directions, a quick glance down each way revealed plenty of information about them: to the right there was a different door, one she imagined would take them out of here, while to the left there were more of the same doors, each with a small light above them. Only two lights were lit up, though, and a quick glance back at her own room, door open and light dark above it, confirmed her suspicions.

She propped a hand on her hip. If that light meant ‘patient session in progress’, as she thought it might, then this was going to be even easier than she thought. At least, presuming she didn’t barge in on some poor Shadow who was just trying to have a normal patient session, but…

“Wait, Kasumi,” she told herself, slapping her cheeks lightly. “Stop worrying so much about the Shadows. One thing at a time.”

One thing at a time, first thing first. No point in getting ahead of herself; that was the best way to stumble, both in life and in her routines. She could only think so many steps ahead before she tangled herself up in her own ribbon; some part of life required simply taking things as they came, trusting in her ability to know the right steps when the moment arrived. So she walked down the hall, towards the first door that had the light above it lit an eye-searing white, and grabbed the handle.

It opened surprisingly easily; she’d been expecting it to be locked or something similar, but it seemed that now that she was on this side of the doors, everything was much easier. She supposed that made some sort of sense; theoretically, the only “people” who were supposed to be walking these halls were the Shadows gathering data on their “patients”, but still…

“Don’t complain about something being too easy, Kasumi,” she whispered to herself, and then she yanked the door open.

Sure enough, the scene that greeted her was much like she expected; the back of the screen that was lit up and undoubtedly portraying some sort of new garbage blocked her path, but Kasumi now noted that along the wall immediately to her right, there was a button. She inspected it carefully, but it wasn’t labelled.

Hmm…

“Please answer the questions properly,” came the familiar voice of the Shadow on the screen. Kasumi flicked her gaze over to it, but from the back she could barely see anything of value, and because it was so brightly lit, she couldn’t see who was stuck beyond said screen. Not that she needed to see; the snarling response made it perfectly clear a moment later.

“I’m not _interested_ in your propagandic garbage! Get out of my face, before I remove you myself!”

Ah. That was definitely Akechi.

Still, Kasumi couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t just already done something about the screen; Akechi wasn’t the sort of person she tended to think of when she thought about the strategy of “wait and see”, especially when he was in _this_ sort of mood… but the screen didn’t come crashing down, and Kasumi shrugged a little to herself.

She pushed the button.

The screen flickered off suddenly, and then it began to raise into the ceiling, and Kasumi strolled into the room properly then, watching the remnants of it retract upwards with a thoughtful hum. “So that’s what that button does… that’s very handy,” she commented to nobody in particular.

Then she swept her gaze over the room properly, and blinked. Akechi, unlike how Kasumi was left to her own devices, was tied to his chair by what Kasumi thought looked unnervingly like black tentacles; she frowned a little, stepping closer.

“Ah, Yoshizawa-san,” Akechi said, tone the sort of calm that promised an imminent collapse into rage if things did not change. “If you would release me, I would like to get out of here.”

“Right, of course!” Kasumi said quickly, trotting to Akechi’s side to squint at his bindings. They _were_ gross, black, pulsating tentacles, which was disgusting; it took all Kasumi had to not recoil back away from them. She took a deep breath, and tried to grab one of them, but they were coiled far too tightly around him and refused to budge.

“Okay…” she muttered quietly. “Then I’ll just have to cut through again, won’t I…?”

She stood, pulling out her sword again. “Please stay still, Akechi-san. I’ll have you out in just a moment, trust me…!”

Akechi muttered something that sounded a bit like, “That wasn’t in doubt,” but it was so unlikely that Kasumi immediately doubted her own hearing. He didn’t repeat himself either way, so she just shook those thoughts out of her head so she could focus.

One neat slice down the side and the tentacles fell to the ground and dissolved into nothingness, which was a relief for Kasumi; she had been starting to feel a little ill by the way they writhed as chopped up pieces.

Akechi stood, brushing himself off and cracking his neck. “Thank you, Yoshizawa-san,” he said simply. “That was beginning to really irritate me.”

Kasumi thought that was probably an understatement, but she didn’t call him out on it. Instead, she nodded simply. “I haven’t found Joker-senpai yet, but I know where he is, I think.”

“Is that so?” Akechi arched an eyebrow at that. “You’ve been productive. How did you yourself escape? I assume you were put in a similar situation.”

Kasumi nodded, even as she began to lead the way out into the back hall again. “Mm, that’s right. But I wasn’t tied up like you were, so it was easier to escape. I’m not sure why they didn’t bother...”

Akechi considered that for a moment, musing more to himself than anything, “That does make some sense, actually.”

They stepped out into the hall and Kasumi paused long enough to orient herself, looking for the other lit up door. It was at the very end of the hall, and she turned that way.

“It does? Why do you say that, Akechi-san?”

Akechi waved a clawed hand vaguely. “It’s simple, really. You are already considered a ‘patient’ by this place, as we’ve already established. They probably assumed that you would be easier to brainwash and ‘treat’, and so didn’t require restraints.”

Kasumi didn’t have the chance to even begin to feel offended by that before Akechi scoffed and continued, “Well, their oversight is to our advantage. If they continue to underestimate you, it may prove to be a useful ace up our sleeves, so to speak.”

“... R-right!” Kasumi said, dipping her head to cover her cheeks with her hands again to try to hide the way that she knew she was blushing once again. She was pretty sure that was the nicest thing Akechi had ever said about or to her, and for a brief moment, she was entirely overwhelmed, her heart thumping in her ears. She could only hope he didn’t notice.

“Regardless,” Akechi said, turning his attention to the door they were walking towards. “I assume you can tell it has a victim in it because of the light?”

At her nod, Akechi brought a hand to his chin. “Simple, but effective. Let’s go.”

He strode forward without a moment’s hesitation and yanked open the door. Both of them were immediately assailed with the sounds of a fight, and Kasumi exchanged glances with Akechi only briefly before they reached immediate agreement and rushed into the room. She went for the button, but it wasn’t necessary; a tentacle slammed into the screen right before their eyes, shorting it out and sizzling the tentacle into nothingness. Kasumi winced at the rank smell.

Akechi, unbothered by the smell or the sight, reached out with a clawed hand to rip the screen aside easily, and then there was Akira, back against the wall as he fended off more of those tentacles with his dagger. The chair was overturned, and there were sliced and diced tentacles already slowly beginning to dissolve on the floor.

Kasumi stared, but Akechi just sighed, pressing a hand to his face. “You always have to show everyone around you up in some way or another, don’t you, Joker? It isn’t enough for you to just quietly sit and wait for rescue, is it?”

Akira glanced over at them, a small grin stretching across his face. “Took you both long enough,” he shot back. “I got pretty bored, so I decided to try my hand at escaping myself.”

Akechi rolled his eyes, but stepped forward nonetheless, drawing his sword. Kasumi followed, her own blade already at the ready.

“We’ll take care of the tentacles,” Akechi said simply to Kasumi. “But as soon as Joker’s out, let’s get out of here. Have you found the way out yet?”

She nodded, and Akechi smirked in grim satisfaction. “Good. Then you lead the way.” 

He stepped forward. “Now, let’s do this.”

There was a thrill that rushed through Kasumi as she ran forward, light on her feet and with her blade glinting in the harsh light of the small clinical exam room, that almost puzzled her. She slashed through two tentacles in her way with one neat motion, danced neatly away from the grasp of another, and split it in two with a quick flick of her wrist.

Where was it coming from, she wondered? She wasn’t bloodthirsty enough to enjoy battle for the sake of battle, not like Akechi. She also didn’t seem to find battle to be the one place she could truly let loose and be herself, not like Akira. She didn’t hate fighting, not by any means; she even enjoyed it when she was by Akira and Akechi’s sides. But this thrill, it was new.

It clicked when she diced another tentacle into pieces. They were falling fast to their combined strength, and she was able to meet Akira’s eyes cleanly, without a single threat between them. He smiled at her, gentle gratitude on his face, and she understood so suddenly that it almost made her laugh to realize it took her that long to realize. Of course she was happy. This was the first time she was truly able to save them, instead of being saved in turn. She’d always been the damsel, the one being saved, over and over and over again. Maruki helping her with her therapy, the teachers at Shujin giving her preferential treatment she’d never asked for, Akira helping her out with her slump, her father constantly reaching out his hand to her… she was always being helped by the people around her.

But she’d meant what she’d said when she was asked about the Phantom Thieves. A person had to be able to stand on her own two feet.

Now that she could, Kasumi could reach out a hand to the people who mattered to her and offer them the help she’d always been receiving.

So she did, stretching a gloved hand out towards Akira, and he stepped forward almost too-casually for his situation, taking her hand and allowing her to pull him closer to her. A tentacle swiped at them, still mostly focused on Akira, and Kasumi reacted immediately, tugging him even closer and twirling towards the door. The maneuver got them out of the way, but it also meant Akira had been tugged right up against her, and Kasumi flushed a little as she processed it, and hoped desperately he couldn’t feel how rapidly her heart was beating.

Akira just grinned at her. “Is this where you dip me?” he asked, and she almost dropped him in her startled surprise. Thankfully, Akira was cat-like enough to steady himself when she let go of him so abruptly, and before she could apologize, he had already turned his attention towards the door.

“Alright, Crow!” he called out. “Let’s bail!”

Akechi was the furthest in the room at this point; he cut another tentacle in two and grabbed one that was lashing at him with a hand and dug his claws deeply into it, dropping it to the ground where it lay limply. Only then did he glance over his shoulder to acknowledge the order.

“Go then! I’ll follow up the rear!”

Akira nodded, satisfied with that, and looked at Kasumi. “You heard him. Lead the way, Kasumi.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Akechi and the way he sliced down another tentacle, knew that he would scoff at her for even considering worrying about her, and instead called out, “Don’t take too long, Akechi-san…!”

Then she was turning neatly on the ball of her foot to slice through the only tentacle still remaining in their way, lunging forward for the door with her blade still raised. The door was still open, and she burst through the open doorway easily, Akira at her heels.

The different door had been down the hall, down the other split; Kasumi ran through the hall without a moment’s hesitation to reach it. She didn’t know if the tentacles would continue to appear now that Akira had broken free of his clinical exam room, but it didn’t seem worth waiting to try and find out.

“There…!” she called out, half to herself and half to Akira, who she hoped was still following her. Her heels skid on the tile beneath her as she slid to a sudden stop, and then she reached for the handle, holding her breath.

It didn’t budge, and Kasumi hissed out a low, “Shit!”

From behind her, Akira laughed an almost incredulous laugh. “You’ve spent way too much time with Akechi if you’re using language like that now,” he said as he came up to her side, peering at the door and the lock.

Then he dug into his pockets to pull out a lock pick. “Watch my back, okay?”

He didn’t even wait for a response before he was crouched in front of the door, fiddling at the lock, and Kasumi nodded hastily, whirling on her heel to stare at the empty hall behind them. At first, all was quiet, and nothing stirred. Then there was the sound of footsteps approaching, and her breath caught in her throat.

“Joker-senpai--!” she began to hiss, and then Akechi rounded the corner, running their way.

He shook his head as he approached, incredulous. “What are you two still _doing_ here?”

He was a little out of breath, but he didn’t look injured from a quick one-over; once that was done, Kasumi just gestured to Akira, still working at the lock. “Almost there,” he promised, as if he could feel both of their sets of eyes boring into the back of his head.

“The tentacles just keep coming,” Akechi said with a displeased twist to his mouth. “They’re not particularly dangerous, but they don’t seem to have the good sense to stay put down where they belong.”

Kasumi frowned a little; Akira still worked at the lock, though she could tell he was making good progress from the perked, interested cast to his shoulders alone. Just a little longer, and they’d be just fine, so--

“Ah, there they are,” Akechi said with a sigh, arms crossed, and Kasumi jerked her head up to watch the tentacles appear around the corner. Watching them jerk forward was… almost comical. It was obvious that these things were never meant to cross long distances quite like this, and they lost a great deal of their menace when they could be watched jerkily sliding forward. But even so, they moved forward with firm determination, and Kasumi stepped forward.

“Then let’s keep them busy, okay, Akechi-san? Just until Joker-senpai is done with that door.”

Akechi sighed again, but he was acting more put-upon than he actually was; he joined her quickly enough that it undercut that sigh, lifting his sword once again.

“Joker, for each additional tentacle I have to cut down, I am demanding an extra cup of coffee at Leblanc,” he called over his shoulder, for him in a tone that was almost light.

Akira snorted softly at that, eyes fixed on his task. “Boss’ll kill me if it’s more than like, three cups.”

Kasumi perked up as well, brightening. “That sounds fun! Maybe we can have a get-together at Leblanc when this is all over and done with. Joker-senpai, I’ll have some coffee too, okay?”

“Honestly,” Akira sighed, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “Stop distracting me, you two. And… it’s a deal on the coffees, but only if you both don’t get hurt. Deal?”

Akechi snorted disdainfully under his breath, lifting his blade. “Don’t you dare underestimate me. Something as pitiful as this could never cause me trouble.”

“And I’m watching his back too, Joker-senpai!” Kasumi said, raising her own sword with a fierce grin. “I’m watching both of your backs, so don’t worry at all. Just focus on getting us through that door!”

She could sense Akechi’s eyes rolling before she even saw it, and the tentacles were joined by Shadows in lab coats with clipboards, stalking towards them with angry, stiff-legged strides.

“You are both far too willing to delve into trite banter at times like this,” Akechi said, and then the Shadows were on them, and Kasumi didn’t have the time to respond. Instead, she fought fiercely, dancing from strike to strike as if it truly were one of her routines. Kasumi didn’t know when she’d found that confidence, when she’d gotten that comfort in her own strength to be able to consider it such. She’d never practiced her strikes in a studio, and everything she learned she learned as they went, with Akechi and Akira watching her every step of the way. 

Maybe that was one of the things she’d been missing without Sumire by her side.

Kasumi neatly ducked a tentacle, backflipped to avoid a Shadow’s Agidyne, and stumbled back a few paces, until her back bumped against another lightly. She didn’t have to look to know it was Akechi, and he didn’t say a word; instead, he remained in place until she was steady and then he lunged forward once again.

Fighting alongside others--training alongside her sister--there was growth and strength in counting on others to both be by her side, but also to tell her when she’d misstepped. There was no growth without realizing her mistakes along the way, and her sister had always been there, pushing her forward and onward, pressing her to succeed flawlessly.

She sensed more than felt the Shadow coming up behind her, turning on her toes to face it head on with a rapier to the face. The Shadow fell, cut down from behind by Akechi’s jagged blade.

Their eyes met, and she nodded to him once, simply. Then Akechi was turning his head to snarl, “Any _day_ , Joker!”

That moment’s distraction was enough when the press of Shadows was so massive; Akechi hissed out a breath that was more aggravated than pained when a tentacle managed to finally break through his defense, slashing at his arm with enough force to cut straight through the bodysuit and draw blood beneath.

Kasumi moved immediately. She didn’t have to think about it; her body knew the steps. It was as if she’d practiced it, and perhaps she had--perhaps she’d practiced this with each and every battle, with each and every moment that they came to understand each other just a little bit better.

She sprang forward, digging her blade through the tentacle without any finesse and leaving it gashed and limp on the floor. Another step forward brought her back to Akechi’s back, and she remained there, eyes narrowed as she faced their teeming enemy.

Now would be a _great_ time to come back, she thought fiercely at Cendrillon, and deep, deep in the back of her head, there was a chime that resonated as if in response.

Then Akira’s voice broke through her focus. “Got it. The door’s open, let’s go!”

Kasumi glanced at the Shadows, at how they clogged the hallway from where they were still appearing, and decided that hesitating any longer was pointless. Akechi seemed to have come to the same conclusion; he turned on his heel and they _bolted_. The tile was slick, and Akira had only just stood up and pushed the door open; Kasumi only realized her mistake a moment too late, and then she was crashing right into him when she was unable to stop her forward momentum, Akechi following up the rear with an uncontrolled tumble.

Akira, groaning from the bottom of the pile, reached up and closed the door.

Kasumi rolled off of him, and Akechi propped himself up against the wall, still seated on the floor, and let his head fall back to hit the wall with a thump.

In the sudden ringing silence after, Kasumi remained flopped there on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. The Shadows didn’t follow, and for a long moment, Kasumi considered that. Then, to the ceiling, she asked conversationally, “Are Shadows unable to open doors?”

“Generally, yeah,” Akira responded, unmoving in his own flopped pile on the ground. “But I also jammed the lock just in case.”

“...Ah,” she responded, nodding a little to herself. “Good idea, Senpai.”

There were another few moments of breathless silence, before finally, Akira sat up. “Alright. What’s your status, you two?”

“I’m okay,” Kasumi said, though she remained flopped on the floor. It was comfortable here, she found, and there was also some comfort in being so unguarded around Akechi and Akira when they were doing the exact same. She didn’t think she’d ever seen them quite so loose-limbed, and she didn’t want to spoil it by moving.

“I also am fine,” Akechi said. “No thanks to the amount of time that lock picking job took you. Honestly, are you out of practice?”

“It was a complicated lock,” Akira said mildly, clearly unbothered by Akechi’s token fussing. Even Kasumi could tell he hardly meant it. “And that arm doesn’t _look_ fine. I thought the deal was only good if you didn’t get hurt.”

“I didn’t get hurt,” Akechi said, and didn’t even bother to hide the gash in his arm, instead, he glanced over at Kasumi. “Yoshizawa-san, if you please.”

Kasumi blinked, but realized what he meant pretty quickly; she sat up, reached for her mask, and was deeply relieved at how easily Cendrillon answered her call. The healing spell that settled over Akechi was more than enough to clean up that small injury, and Akechi nodded. “Thank you,” he told her, before he turned his attention back to Akira. “As you can see, there are no injuries. Our deal is still intact.”

Akira inspected Akechi for a moment, as if searching for something beneath his words… and then he just waved a hand vaguely as he stood. “Fine, then. I know you just love Leblanc’s house blend, so I’ll let it slide this time.”

He moved to Kasumi’s side then, offering her a hand, which she took very willingly. He helped haul her up to her feet, but he held tight to her hand even when she was standing, and Kasumi blinked at him in curious surprise.

“Thanks, Kasumi,” he said seriously, squeezing her hand in his own. “You really saved us both back there. We were lucky you’re with us.”

“That’s not true,” Kasumi said with a smile, shaking her head peacefully. “You would have gotten out of that room eventually. Akechi-san too--as soon as he got his claws into one of those tentacles, it would’ve been all over for them. I just sped things up a bit!”

Akira huffed out a faint laugh at that, shaking his head.

“But you know, Senpai…” Kasumi continued after a moment, looking down at their clasped hands. “It made me really happy to be able to help you both like that. No matter what’s at the end of the road in this Palace… I’m glad I’m here too.”

Akira smiled at her, and Kasumi beamed back, and then Akechi, pushing himself to his own feet, interrupted with a dry, “We’ve probably wasted enough time here. You can both go back to being sentimental the next Safe Room we find.”

Kasumi flushed a little, tugging her hand back; Akechi was right, after all. This was hardly the time or place, and the last thing they needed was to be ambushed and end up in more fights when they were all still pretty exhausted.

“Right, fair,” Akira said, stepping forward to lead the way once again. As he passed Akechi, he briefly rested a hand on his shoulder, and again, Kasumi couldn’t help but wonder what, exactly, they were saying in their silent, quiet communications. A lot of the tension of their earlier interactions had disappeared, replaced by what she thought might have been a quiet sort of understanding.

Did they talk? Kasumi couldn’t help but wonder as she followed. Or was it like for her, and that just taking on this Palace together, and fighting side by side had brought out some new sort of understanding? She couldn’t be sure, of course. It was possible that she never would be sure. But there was an ease to the way all three of them walked forward, side-by-side, that she wanted to capture and remember. No matter what came, she had this moment, and that, Kasumi thought, was more than she’d had for such a long time.

She was snapped back to attention again immediately when she tripped over a banner strewn across the floor. Kasumi was at least light enough on her feet to be able to catch herself after a couple of stumbling steps, and when she glanced at Akechi and Akira surreptitiously, it didn’t seem as though they’d noticed her almost-spill.

It got her to stop and look around properly, though, and that’s when she paused. The room was dark, and it reminded her again of that auditorium from before, almost--but instead of being well-lit, clearly expectant with an audience, this room was empty. There were banners and posters tossed everywhere, as if a whirlwind had gone through the room.

“What is this place…?” she whispered to herself.

She shot one of the cameras a frowning look, but it wasn’t trained on any of the three. Maybe this room wasn’t ready at all…?

Akechi sighed. “What this room is intended to represent is only known to the Palace’s Ruler for certain. But I do believe it reveals one thing about their state of mind to us.”

She tilted her head a little, curious. “What’s that?”

“Look at this place.” The disgust in his voice was plain. “It’s a chaotic mess. Our Palace Ruler has only the barest grasp on reality at this point, that is something I am quite certain of.”

Kasumi swept her gaze over the room again with newly contemplative eyes, bringing a hand to her chin in thought. “You’re right about that… but it’s strange. It almost reminds me of something else. With the chairs, and the carts, and the raised stage in the middle… it’s almost like an awards room--”

Her breath hitched. The headache that slammed into her was on a different level entirely from the ones before; she could barely keep her feet as she clutched at her head, eyes squeezed tightly shut. She could hear Akechi and Akira both calling her name, but it was all she could do to keep herself from whimpering--

And then it was gone.

Shakily, she straightened.

“Are you all right?” Akira asked, concern clear on his face. She offered him a weak smile, trying to be as reassuring as she possibly could.

“More importantly,” Akechi said, “are you able to continue?”

Kasumi dragged in another shaky breath, nodding firmly. “Yes. I am. I...want to see this through to the end. Please, trust in that.”

Akechi inspected her for another long moment before he simply shrugged. “Fine. You have proven yourself capable of that much.”

He turned and began to continue to walk, but Akira lingered for a moment, brow still furrowed. “Don’t push yourself too hard, Kasumi,” he murmured. “We’re going to get to the bottom of this… so don’t take it all on your own shoulders. Even if Akechi wouldn’t say so, we’re both here for you.”

That got a more sincerely warm smile out of Kasumi. “Mm, I know. Trust me… I’m definitely counting on both of you guys.”

Akira looked at her for one more long moment before he finally nodded. “Alright. So long as you know that… I’ll trust you to remember it.”

He didn’t wait for her to answer, or press her for one; instead, with those words said, he turned on his heel to follow after Akechi. Kasumi watched him go for a moment, pressing her fingers gently to her tender temple.

“Why is it always me…?” she whispered to herself. Cendrillon had no answers, and neither did Kasumi. Instead, all she could do was follow, lips pressed together in a tight line. She was getting awfully tired of being toyed with in this place.

They were left alone as they stalked through the large room, wariness in every line of each of their bodies. Their first exit was obvious, and Akira went for it immediately; around the corner, there was an open exit into a hallway that was significantly more well lit than the room they were in. The harsh fluorescent lighting didn’t make that seem inviting, exactly, but it _did_ seem like it was beckoning them closer, and at this point, they wanted to see exactly where that would lead.

They didn’t get far.

One step into the hall and a Shadow appeared, as if manifested out of nothingness; Kasumi immediately reached for her blade, Akira tensing as if to spring for its mask, but before either of them could react, the Shadow spoke. “Do not search for pain. Only tragedy awaits you beyond here.”

Kasumi blinked. So many of the Shadows had spoken of these absolutes at this point--happiness, pain, tragedy, joy--as if they could have any sort of comprehension of what made up those very concepts. It certainly didn’t help that the Shadow’s masked face was staring right at her.

The Shadow looked at her, just as the Shadow in the clinical exam room had looked at her, and said, “You are misguided.”

And something within Kasumi _snapped_. She’d had a very, very long day already, and had been condescended to by so many Shadows. This entire Palace had seemed like it was taunting her, tugging at her coyly without ever revealing the truth to her properly. So she bristled, drawing herself up to her full height, face furious beneath her mask. Who were these Shadows to tell her how wrong she was living her life? Who was this Palace Ruler to act as though they knew what was best for _her_?

“All of these warnings of pain and tragedy,” Kasumi spat out, taking a step closer. Neither Akechi nor Akira stopped her. So she continued, snapping out words with each step. “Who is your Ruler? Why do you all think you know so much about me?!” 

There was no response. The Shadow just stared at her with that blank, blank look on its mask, and Kasumi scoffed under her breath in certain aggravation. “If you won’t give me an answer, then I’ll just _force_ my way through.”

She’d seen Akira go through the motions time and time again, and she’d even taken a mask off of one of these herself, so Kasumi saw no reason to hesitate any longer. She rushed forward, flung herself into an angry front handspring, and soared over the Shadow’s head. Like Akira, she landed on its shoulders. Unlike Akira, there was no grace to how she furiously tore the mask from its face, as if that would stop it from staring at her so unnervingly while it acted as though it knew what was best for her.

She tossed the mask aside and didn’t bother to look where it landed, instead jumping away before the Shadow completely melted beneath her, reforming into Shadows she’d never seen before. They looked like red, upright demons, but regardless of how they looked, Kasumi was quite certain they would fall just as well as the other Shadows had along the way.

“Yoshizawa-san, hold _on_ , dammit--!”

“Cendrillon, let’s take care of this quickly!” she called out, lifting a hand, the other pressed to her mask. Her Persona answered her call easily, flinging familiar light spells at the Shadows. They avoided the light as if it was the easiest thing they’d done all day, stepping around it, and Kasumi’s blood boiled. 

“Fine then!” she spat out. “I’ll take care of you _this_ way!”

“Wait--!” came the call from behind her, but Kasumi was already lunging forward, swinging her rapier with all of her rage and fury and frustration. It struck the Shadow, Kasumi’s aim perfectly true… and slammed into the Shadows’ natural nulling capabilities. There had been too much force and momentum in her strike; Kasumi didn’t have the chance to pull back. Her blade hit the Shadow in front of her, and snapped clean in half.

She staggered back, staring at the hilt of her sword, which now had only a few inches of sword attached. “What--” she began to gasp, but before Kasumi could give words to the feelings and thoughts and emotions boiling just below the surface, the Shadow sneered at her, reaching out one clawed hand her way.

It hissed something under its breath in a strange, sinister tongue, and Kasumi’s mind went blank--and then Akira was there, slamming into her and sending her tumbling. She yelped as she went down, but despite her surprise, her years of training took over immediately. She tucked and rolled instead, coming up to a crouch easily, head whipping around to look at the situation. Akira’s tackle had knocked the worst of her rage out of her alongside taking her out of range of danger, and now her head was a bit cooler.

What she saw made her heart sink.

Akira stood where she had before, his shoulders hunched, a hand covering his face. He shuddered in place, looking for all the world as if he’d lost all hope for a bright future, and Kasumi stared at him for a long moment, eyes wide.

“Calm _down_! Stop rushing into things!” Akechi spat, and his words dragged her attention away from Akira.

“W-what’s wrong with him?” she asked, voice a hoarse whisper, and Akechi scoffed.

“It’s despair. It was _intended_ for you--whoever’s running this Palace sure has it out for you.” Akechi’s gaze slid over to Joker, and then back to the Shadows. “He’s a pathetic sight like this, I know, but you can’t count on him for help now.”

“He took that hit for me,” she said softly, but Akechi merely rolled his eyes at her.

“Yes, yes, he did. You can feel terrible about it later.” His tone was entirely dry, almost business-like. He backstepped away from the other Shadow’s attack, avoiding its spiked tail with ease. “These Shadows seem as though they were created to thwart you in particular, Yoshizawa-san,” Akechi continued conversationally. “And we do not have much time before the despair makes Joker do something irreversible.”

Kasumi thought back immediately to how easily they’d dodged her attacks, glancing to where the majority of her sword now lay in shards on the ground, and pressed her lips together. Akechi was undoubtedly right again about that. With that in mind, and with Akira in danger, there was no time for pride.

“... What should I do, Akechi-san?” she asked, lifting her chin. Even if that was the case, and the Palace Ruler was trying to stop her in particular for some reason, she wasn’t about to give up just as easily as this, just because she was basically being _told_ to go home like a good little girl.

Akechi met her gaze across the battlefield, and she could see him sizing her up slowly. She straightened further, eyes narrowed, and whatever he saw in her in that moment… it seemed to be enough for him.

He nodded. “Fine then. You don’t seem ready to lay down and die just yet, so I will allow you to assist me in destroying these scum.”

He reached out a clawed hand to her. “This is it--I’ll time your attacks with mine!”

In that moment, it was as if the air crystalized around them and the Shadows both, until they were no longer in the Palace, and the Shadows were no longer a threat. Akechi lifted his hand, palm outstretched. A spotlight shone on both of them, Kasumi slowly unfolding as she stood, Akechi standing tall with his hand outstretched.

He made a vague face. “So this is your cognition, is it? It is a little on the nose.”

“What?” she asked, blinking, and the vision began to distort a little.

“Never mind. Just get on with it,” Akechi said, extending his hand to her again, this time more insistently.

Kasumi could take her cue. She began to step down the stairs (stairs? Where had stairs come from?), until she was able to rest her fingers obediently against his palm. For a moment, they stood there, a tidy, elegant pair at the base of glass, winding stairs, a spotlight upon them--

Then Akechi grinned, and there was nothing kind about the expression. “ _Finally_ ,” he said, and then his fingers closed around hers, his other hand snagging her arm. “Brace yourself, Yoshizawa-san! Gun at the ready!”

“Wha--” Kasumi began to ask, but there was no time for that; he grabbed her firmly, spun once for momentum, and _launched_ her at the Shadows, still stopped in time. For a moment, Kasumi was frozen in shock, but she was hurtling towards the Shadows at an alarming speed, and the last thing she wanted to do was _crash into them_. Instead, she whipped out her gun, vaguely remembering Akechi’s instructions and blindly trusting in them, and began to fire.

The bullets slammed into the Shadows, knocking them prone to the ground, just low enough that Kasumi saw her way out; instead of slamming right into them, she twisted in the air, managed to get a heeled foot against one of the Shadow’s heads, and launched herself in a flip over them.

She turned in the air just in time to see Akechi pop up where she’d been hurtling through the air a moment before, a sharp, sinister grin on his face.

“Got you,” he told the Shadows, and then he brought his blade down.

Kasumi landed, staggered a few steps backwards, and caught herself, somehow remaining on her feet. If she’d been in a competition, she thought ruefully, she’d have lost points for stumbling like that--but on the other hand, who could have ever expected _that_?

The Shadows dissolved into nothingness with a few fiercely hissed words. “Such a fool, rejecting our lord’s mercy. In that case, witness it for yourself.”

Then they were gone, and Kasumi wheezed as she folded over to rest her hands on her knees, dragging in deep breaths. Akechi seemed a little winded as well, though he was better off than her; he walked over to Akira’s side, nudging their makeshift leader with a hand. Akira stumbled to one side with the push, but his nose wrinkled as he pressed a hand to his head, slowly coming back to himself.

“Ugh,” Akira said.

“Correct,” Akechi responded. “You were extremely pathetic for that entire fight.”

Kasumi straightened immediately at that, horror on her face. “Akechi-san! Don’t say that…! That was my fault to begin with. Joker-senpai was the one who saved me--!”

Akira waved away her outrage with a faintly rueful smile. He still looked pretty pale, and Kasumi frowned in concern.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I’m glad you’re okay--that you’re both okay. Besides, protecting his teammates is what being a leader’s all about.”

“As per usual, you do not have a shred of self-preservation, and I find that extremely vexing,” Akechi said with a faint huff. “But I have no interest in debating that here and now. We should go.”

Kasumi blinked slowly. She was still reeling from her guilt, but something about what Akechi said felt slightly off to her. She wasn’t surprised that he was in a hurry to continue, but-- “Go…? As in… leave the Palace?”

“Yes,” he said, crossing his arms. “You heard what that Shadow said, didn’t you? There’s something waiting for us down this hall.”

He gestured a clawed hand at their ragtag team. “Do you think we’re prepared for any sort of difficult battle like _this_? The only thing we’d be doing is rushing to our deaths.”

“Akechi’s right,” Akira said, nodding. “We’re probably getting close to something big. We’ve still got time--it’s okay to take a breather for the day.” He already looked more like himself, tucking his hands casually into his pockets and leaning against the wall behind him, but Kasumi was pretty sure she would never forget the sight of Akira listing, head bowed as if the weight of the world was crushing him.

Still, they were both set, and Kasumi didn’t feel as though it was her place to argue, even though she was itching to know what this Palace’s Ruler had against her in particular. She’d rushed into the last fight, nearly getting them all into irreversible trouble, and Akechi’s logic was sound. Besides, now that she was taking stock of herself, she was _exhausted_ ; this Palace infiltration had been one thing after another, and stopping to breathe for a moment was truly making her realize just how terrible it had been.

“Let’s find a Safe Room and get out of here,” Akira said, turning his back resolutely to that hallway, and obediently, Kasumi and Akechi followed.

Even so, she couldn’t help but sneak a glance over her shoulder. There was nothing down the hallway that she could see, but she felt like something was urging her on to see just what was waiting for her there. She didn’t know if she was eager or afraid for what was waiting for her, but she knew fully well that it was nothing she could avoid any longer; she _had_ to go, and do this one thing for herself.

In the back of her mind, Kasumi felt Cendrillon agree, and resolutely turned away from the hallway properly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our first proper touchpoint with canon, and what a ride it's been to get here. One more chapter to go--tomorrow's 1/8, after all!


	9. 1/8

The last day of break always felt monumental to Kasumi in an odd sort of way. It was the last day before a fresh slate of school started, the last day of freedom, the last day of taking it easy. Today, though, somehow felt more monumental than every last day of break ever had in her life. Today, it felt like she was standing on the very edge of a precipice, toes peeking over the edge, and that the moment she moved, she risked plummeting.

But Kasumi had grown over the past week. She wasn’t afraid any longer, and she certainly was no longer running away.

And so Kasumi started the day boldly with a text.

 **Kasumi:** Could you contact Akechi-san for me? I’d like for all of us to meet. I’ll bring breakfast!

The message was carefully tapped around the spiderwebbing cracks along her phone screen. Whenever she’d dropped it (she still could not recall such an event), it must have just gotten worse from not fixing it… she’d have to ask her father about where she could get the screen replaced soon. It was just so strange… she still didn’t remember dropping it, and this level of damage had to have come from a pretty nasty fall. Not only were there such terrible cracks in the screen, but an entire edge of the phone’s casing had chipped off. Wouldn’t she have noticed such a dramatic drop? 

Ultimately, she shrugged and carefully set her phone aside. That wasn’t terribly important right now anyway.

She didn’t wait for a response to her text; instead, she hopped out of bed and got dressed, tidily tying her hair back as she did, and making sure she was as put together as she could be. She slipped her phone into her pocket, glanced at herself in the mirror, and nodded. Same old Kasumi, right…? She looked the same as she’d always had, bright-eyed and raring to go. Then she went downstairs to commandeer the kitchen. It was a Monday, so while she was still on break, her father was not and the kitchen was quiet; he’d already left for the day, though it seemed as though he left her a note before he went.

Kasumi picked it up idly as she moved towards the fridge to find their eggs.

_It’s been good to see you spreading your wings more, but please also be careful. I need you to come home safely and in one piece._

_Have a good day today. Call me if you need anything._

_Love,  
Dad_

“Honestly, he worries too much,” Kasumi said to herself, but it was with a small smile, and she carefully folding the note to put it in her pocket as well. “Of course I’ll come home. Where else would I go?”

She finally checked her phone then, even as she pulled out their carton of eggs.

 **Akira** : Sure. He said he’s up for meeting too.

Kasumi’s lips twitched into a smile. That was something she could never imagine Akechi saying, and she felt as though she knew him well enough to be confident in at least that much.

 **Kasumi:** Did he really say that?  
 **Akira:** No, but I inferred that’s what he meant.  
 **Kasumi:** That sounds more like him. Can we meet at Palette Town? We won’t be too far from the Palace there.

There was quiet after that, presumably the quiet of Akira wrangling Akechi into accepting her invitation, and Kasumi hummed contentedly as she started to set out her ingredients. Tamagoyaki was a delicious and healthy breakfast… maybe if she made miso soup, she could put that in a thermos and bring it as well…? And, of course, there had to be rice. Carbs were important when it came to strenuous exercise like their runs through the Palace. 

She knew that she wanted to do something today for the two people who had stuck by her side this whole time, and cooking was one of the few skills she felt confident in. So making a nice breakfast for before their Palace infiltration seemed like exactly the right fit. Besides, she wasn’t sure either Akechi or Akira really cooked for themselves at home particularly often or healthily. Akechi’s place had been so spotless it was difficult to believe his little kitchen was ever used, and Kasumi had seen Akira eating whatever he could buy from the school store for lunch plenty of times. Neither inspired much confidence in their diets.

 **Akira:** It’s a deal. How about in an hour?  
 **Kasumi:** That’s perfect. Thanks, Senpai!

With that settled, Kasumi set her phone aside with a satisfied smile and got to cooking, taking comfort in the familiar, simple routine of making breakfast. Honestly, it’d been something she’d picked up early on; her sister was so hopeless at it that it felt like the least she could do to keep them both fed and fit. There was comfort in it now, comfort in doing something so familiar before she took a proper dive into the unknown.

So it was that Kasumi had a neatly wrapped set of bentos in her arms as she stepped out into the cold January air, setting out confidently to meet with her companions in Odaiba.

Palette Town, she thought to herself contemplatively, leaning against the side of the train. It felt like a thousand years ago now though it had only been the beginning of this week, but she remembered wondering why she couldn’t remember what she and her sister used to go there for. Now, her lips twisted a little, realizing the Palace’s Ruler most likely had something to do with that. Just how many of her memories had they meddled with?

_Do not search for pain._

_Do you even want to be happy?_

The Shadows had been so condescending, so certain that she did not even know what was best for herself. Kasumi lifted her gaze, glancing around the train. Everyone smiled, no matter what it was they were looking at. A woman smiled at her child, who smiled at the window. A man smiled at his phone. A woman smiled down vacantly at a book in her lap.

Kasumi shuddered and looked away.

She _was_ doing the right thing here. Trying to find her answers, trying to face the truth, not running away before the strike of midnight… She was doing the right thing, wasn’t she? She had to be, because somehow, it felt like she was risking everything on this. This was important--it was important to her, it was important to Akechi and Akira both, and it was important for all of these people who were having their emotions and lies toyed with like puppets on so many invisible strings.

Had doing the right thing always been so frightening?

The train came to a stop.

Kasumi took a deep breath, clutched her bentos closer to her chest, and exited the train. She didn’t have to walk long to make it to Palette Town proper, her stride perhaps a little hastier than it needed to be. She wasn’t running, not exactly, but perhaps it was in the hopes that meeting up with her companions would quiet her thoughts that she lengthened her stride. Their meeting place was supposed to be…

“Listen, if she becomes a liability, then we must be prepared to take some sort of action. I know you are a bleeding heart, so that action may be best to take now, before we enter the Palace.”

“You’re overreacting a little, don’t you think? She’s been fine this far. If she thinks she’s up to continuing to infiltrate with us, I say let her.”

“And _you_ are far too cavalier about this whole matter. You and I both know that if she is being influenced by this Palace’s Ruler, or even worse, is the Palace’s Ruler herself then--”

Kasumi supposed it was only a matter of time before she came across Akechi and Akira like this, and in truth, she couldn’t even be offended; the Kasumi of a few days back, fluctuating wildly between feelings she was still trying to figure out, probably would’ve been. But the Kasumi of now knew more and knew better.

“Akechi-san isn’t wrong to worry,” Kasumi said, heels clicking resolutely on the sidewalk as she walked briskly closer to join them. Neither jumped, not that she expected them to; they were both their own version of a thief in the night, after all. Akira did have the good grace to look a little apologetic for discussing her without her present, but Akechi, as she expected, looked thoroughly unrepentant.

Which was fine. Again, none of this truly bothered her. How could she be bothered when she agreed?

“I understand why he is. You both don’t know how much I’ve been influenced by this world and this Palace ruler, right?” she continued, tone almost businesslike. “If that’s what you’re worried about… all I can say is that if they do have some sort of impact on me that we didn’t anticipate, I’ll do everything I can to not become a burden. I _promise_.”

“So we have your word…” Akechi murmured. “Trite and unsurprising, but…”

Akira’s lips twitched, as if he was trying to hide a smile. “...But it’s good enough for you, huh, Akechi?”

“I would thank you to not put words into my mouth,” Akechi responded tartly, but Kasumi couldn’t help but realize that even with that response, he wasn’t exactly denying it. She smiled a little to herself, but didn’t call attention to it; she knew better than to tempt fate when it came to Akechi.

Now that she looked properly, Akira was waiting with one hand tucked into his pockets, posture casual as he scrolled through his phone with the other, but Akechi stood off to the side, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall of a building. He clearly did not want to give off even the remotest sense of wanting to be around either of them.

Something about the sight, after the oppressiveness of so many eerily smiling, forcibly happy faces, settled her.

Once upon a time, Kasumi had felt like the only place she belonged was up on the podium with her sister by her side, working towards their dreams together. She’d lost that place a little bit--she’d lost Sumire, she’d lost her ability to score well on the floor, and she’d lost the podium.

But she felt settled when she was here, with Akechi and Akira, as if she was the only person who could fill in this third place. It felt like she had an important role to play here, and it felt like the two of them needed her in a way that she’d never had before.

She knew that wasn’t true, deep down. Akira still had his Phantom Thieves, and Akechi would have made use of anyone with a Persona who could help him bring what needed to be finished to fruition. But it didn’t matter that it wasn’t true; she _felt_ it in her heart, and for Kasumi, that was enough. At least for now, for as long as this lasted… it was enough.

So Kasumi smiled and lifted up the bentos. “Regardless of all of that… I brought breakfast!”

Akechi finally straightened then, arching an eyebrow as he stalked over to finally properly join them, rather than hanging back. “You called us together to eat breakfast, Yoshizawa-san?”

“Mm, that’s right!” Kasumi said with a firm nod. “We’ve been putting a lot of effort into our Palace runs as of late, and a good diet is critical to not wearing your body out. Besides, we know we’ve got a tough battle coming up today, right? I wanted to do what I could to help us prepare for it.”

Akechi still looked a little disgruntled, but Akira cut in easily nonetheless. “Thanks, Kasumi, that’s a good idea. Let’s find a place to sit so we can enjoy it.”

It didn’t take them long to find one of the many side areas decorated with benches, peaceful places for people overwhelmed by the crowds to take refuge while they wandered the many shops and attractions to be found in Palette Town. It was still cold out, and the mall _was_ outdoors; Kasumi wasn’t surprised that it was pretty quiet at this time of day.

She tugged out the first bento, passing it to Akira, before grabbing the second and offering it to Akechi. He looked pretty discomfited still, but he didn’t refuse it, and Kasumi supposed that either he’d forgotten to eat breakfast and was very hungry, or he at least decided she wouldn’t poison him and thus it was safe to take her cooking. She didn’t really care which; all that mattered to her was that he took it.

Akira took the bento easily as well, despite the horrible meal she’d made for him before… his faith was gratifying, and Kasumi could only hope that he’d enjoy this one much more than the last one. When both of them had their food, Kasumi pulled out the last carefully packed bento for herself, nodding contentedly.

“There! That should do it--oh, and the thermos has miso soup in it. Please, help yourselves!” Kasumi just hummed a peaceful note as she grabbed her chopsticks, opening up her own bento to enjoy. It was still warm, and she watched the steam rise in the cold winter air for a moment before she finally dug in. Her first few bites were enthusiastic, and served as a confirmation; the egg had turned out well, and rice was rice, so she hadn’t messed that up at all. She was pretty confident in her salad combinations as well, so with a confident nod, she lifted her head to see how the other two were enjoying their impromptu breakfast.

Akira seemed to like it, at least; he’d dug in very willingly as well, and when he caught her looking his way, he glanced over with slightly-fogged glasses.

“Is it better than last time, Senpai?” she asked seriously, head tilted.

In response, Akira nodded with an ease that meant he most likely was being sincere. “Everything tastes just like I was hoping it would. You’re a good cook--seriously, thanks for the meal.”

Kasumi nodded firmly, expression content, and turned her attention to Akechi. He’d opened his bento, at least, but as far as she could tell, despite the fact that he held his chopsticks in one hand, his food was untouched. She frowned a little.

“Akechi-san, if you don’t eat it quickly, the food will get cold. Especially the tamagoyaki...”

Akechi set down his chopsticks firmly, which was very much the opposite of what she’d been hoping for. “Yoshizawa-san, why are you doing this?”

She blinked at him. “That’s…”

“Why the breakfast, and the overtures of unwanted friendship, and the constant reaching out to me? It is not only not necessary, but it isn’t wanted either.” Akechi frowned, fingers tightened on the bento. “I do not recall ever asking for your meddling.”

There was silence in response to that for a long moment. Akira, on Kasumi’s other side, peacefully ate another slice of his tamagoyaki, seemingly content to see how this played out without interfering just yet. Then Kasumi lifted her chin, meeting Akechi’s eyes with her own fierce gaze, and broke the silence herself.

“I’m doing this because I want to, Akechi-san,” she said simply. “I know you do not want to be friends, and I know that you think I’m a nuisance… but this is what I want to do, so I’ve decided I’m going to do it anyway.”

Akechi’s brow furrowed, but it was into an expression more thoughtful than irritated.

Kasumi picked up another slice of carrot with her chopsticks and continued firmly, “If it makes you feel better to act as though I brought it only to help with your performance in the Palace, I suppose you can do that… but then you will be the one running from the truth, not me.”

Akira hummed a softly approving noise that seemed to be for Kasumi’s ears only, something she rather thought might’ve been agreement, and when she glanced at him, he was still peacefully focused on eating, though she thought there was a small smile on his lips.

Akechi sighed, and Kasumi’s gaze went back to him immediately. “You have gotten awfully presumptuous, haven’t you? Though I suppose it is better than the wheedling, weak-willed person you occasionally were before.”

As far as insulting things Kasumi had heard from Akechi went, that didn’t even begin to scratch the surface; the words slid off of her like light spells in the Metaverse, and she just tilted her head a little, meeting his eyes calmly.

“Very well then, Yoshizawa-san,” he finally said. “I will eat the meal you brought. But do not expect me to thank you for it. I have absolutely no intentions of doing so.”

Kasumi beamed at that, expression bright. “That’s fine, Akechi-san! Whether you thank me or not won’t change the fact that I intend on doing what I want to do from here on out. This is just one of those things.”

Akechi scoffed under his breath, but he picked up his chopsticks then and began to eat, so Kasumi didn’t exactly mind. She felt confident in this much, in doing what she could do and finding her place in whatever ways she could, and that confidence was a pleasant breath of fresh air after the year she’d been having. So for her, the quiet as they all ate their meals was peaceful.

At least, it was peaceful until Akira, too nonchalant to not know exactly what he was doing, said, “It’s good to see you two getting along better now.”

Then there wasn’t much quiet at all, not between Akechi’s immediate protests and Kasumi’s flustered interjections, but there was comfort in that familiarity as well.

* * *

“So this is it, huh…?” Kasumi asked, tilting her head back to stare up at the Palace. They’d gone straight there after they finished their meals, figuring that with what would undoubtedly be a tough fight before them, sooner would be better than later. There was no way to be sure just how much of the Palace remained, either, and they were rapidly running out of time on their break--there was no reason to not commit their entire day to this task. So Kasumi clutched the empty bento boxes close to her chest as she inspected the Palace from the outside, a faint frown on her face.

“We can only hope so, anyway,” Akechi said with a faint nod. “We have wasted a great deal of time on this infiltration. The sooner we find the Palace Ruler, the better.”

Akira’s eyes were also on the Palace. There was a faint frown on his face, though she couldn’t see his eyes through his glasses.

“Senpai…?” Kasumi asked.

“... Just thinking about some things,” Akira said with a faint shake of his head. “Depending on what happens today, I guess we’ll all know the truth regardless.”

A beat, and he straightened, looking at his companions firmly. “Are you two both ready to head in?”

“I’m ready, Senpai!” Kasumi said cheerfully, juggling the bento boxes until she could tug out her phone. Akechi just narrowed his eyes and said, “Certainly. I have some words I would like to share with this Palace’s Ruler.”

The contrast of the responses seemed to amuse Akira; there was a fondness to his gaze as he glanced between them both, before he just shook whatever thoughts had crossed his mind out of his head and nodded to Kasumi.

She carefully maneuvered around the many cracks in her phone screen, murmuring softly, “It’s a good thing my phone still works despite all of this…”

Akira blinked, exchanging a sudden glance with Akechi. “Wait, Kasumi, you can see the cracks now--?”

Whatever the question was, it was lost in the sudden shift of Kasumi pressing the navigation button, of their movement from one reality to the other, of their Phantom Thief outfits settling onto them properly. 

She tucked her phone away and only then blinked at Akira.

“Did you say something, Joker-senpai?”

He stared at her for a moment too long, long enough that Kasumi shifted in place and wondered if she’d said or done something wrong. But then he shook his head. “No, it’s nothing. Let’s get moving. We have a lot to do today.”

Akechi watched her critically, his eyes narrowed, but he didn’t say anything, and so Kasumi could do nothing but let it go. They had a far more important task ahead of them anyway.

So they slipped into the Palace like three shadows, ever aware of the fact that even so, the large, sweeping cameras followed their every move. There was a certain tension to their infiltration this time that had been absent since nearly the very beginning; this time, it truly felt to Kasumi as though they were going to be making some sort of irreversible progress, and judging from how Akira and Akechi were silent and focused as well, it seemed they felt the same.

Each step through the Palace brought Kasumi closer to her truth.

She hoped that when she found it, it would be something worth all of this effort to meet.

They made their way through the Palace nearly methodically, dispatching whatever Shadows stood in their way effortlessly. Kasumi knew exactly where Akechi and Akira would be and how to meet their expectations in battle, their long days of practice shining through with each fight. The path, too, they all had memorized at this point, after treading and retreading their steps so many times. They paused only when they’d made it to that fateful hallway, the one where the Shadow had warned them--or rather, Kasumi alone--away. Immediately, Kasumi felt her hands clench into fists at the memory.

“So this is it then,” Akechi said as they stared down the hall. It veered to the left not that far in front of them, cutting off their line of sight, and so they had no way of knowing what lurked just beyond. But there were no Shadows waiting for them, not yet. The hallway was quiet.

Akira tucked his hands into his pockets casually and said, “It feels almost a little anticlimactic, doesn’t it?”

Something about his words lightened the mood, and Kasumi huffed out a faint laugh. “Senpai! You’re going to jinx it.”

“I have to agree with Yoshizawa-san,” Akechi drawled out. “You already attract trouble without calling more down upon us.”

That got Akira to turn to Akechi, an eyebrow arched elegantly. “I attract trouble? I remember you actually causing a large chunk of that trouble _for_ me, you know.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Akechi said, finally beginning to walk forward into the hallway properly. “You were hardly a blip on my radar for most of your Phantom Thievery.”

Akira watched him go with a faint smile, something more amused than anything, as if he understood something funny, a joke that was only for him. Then, with his hands still in his pockets and posture as casual as could be, he strolled forward to follow Akechi.

And Kasumi smiled as well, finding a certain sort of comfort in the interaction, in the way that she was growing used to this and how these two were, how they acted towards each other and towards her, and their growth together. It was just as comfortable as the way that her own Phantom Thief outfit settled over her--her costume for the ball, she thought, a little fancifully.

She really would miss this when it was all over. She would miss this camaraderie, this sense of uniting purpose. That was something Kasumi knew better than to share when both Akechi and Akira were so focused on making it to the end of this Palace. Instead she tucked the thought away, comfortable and secret, and lifted her chin and blade both to follow them forward.

Slipping carefully around the corner revealed no Shadows and an open doorway that somehow still failed to feel inviting; Kasumi’s eyes narrowed, but even so they approached without hesitation. It was almost anticlimactic. They stepped through, and nothing stopped them. For once, there was nothing to block their path forward, and the lack of resistance in and of itself set off alarm bells in her head. 

Beyond the doorway, there stood only a man in white, all in white and turned away from them, and it clicked for Kasumi immediately--this man was the one pulling the strings here, the one whose heart had dreamt up such a large, sprawling, white facade of a Palace.

“Is he this Palace’s…?” she murmured softly; neither of her companions answered, and she didn’t expect them to. It was obvious, wasn’t it?

Behind the white facade, there had been cameras and Shadows and judgment. Kasumi couldn’t forget that as she stared at his back, and wondered what lurked beneath his own white facade. And then he turned around, and Kasumi forgot everything else but how achingly familiar that face was.

“It’s been quite awhile, hasn’t it?” he asked, voice as gentle as she remembered from their many counseling sessions together, and Kasumi gaped.

“Dr. Maruki?!”

Beside her, Akira hissed a frustrated noise beneath his breath, one that didn’t sound surprised, but _did_ sound disappointed, and Kasumi wondered vaguely at what point before this it had clicked for her senpai. Did it even matter…? They all knew the truth now. She felt numb as she stared at him, stared at his smile that didn’t look near so gentle as his tone.

Maruki had been one of the stable constants in her changing, upheaved world after her sister’s death. He had been gentle, kind, consistent, supportive. That he was here now… it made no _sense_.

The numbness didn’t go anywhere as he confirmed for them all that he was the Palace’s Ruler. If anything, it only spread; Kasumi stared at him with her arms limp at her sides, and scrambled for words that would not come. It had been easy to progress through the Palace with determination when it had been some faceless villain she assumed they were going to fight. But when it was _Maruki_ , who had always been kind to her, always there for her to lean on when she felt she couldn’t support herself after her sister’s death--

Akechi seemed the most unfazed; he stared Maruki down, tone almost bored, and asked, “Would we be correct in assuming that you’re involved in the abnormalities outside of the Palace as well?”

That possibility hadn’t even crossed her mind yet; Kasumi’s head snapped around to stare at Akechi, but he didn’t even bother to look at her. His own gaze was fixed on Maruki, and it did not waver.

Maruki did not hesitate either. “Yes,” he said simply. “You would.”

His next words were like physical blows, leaving Kasumi barely able to breathe. “Do you like the reality I created for you?” Maruki asked, and she had to focus on dragging in breath after breath, staring at him helplessly. _Maruki_ did this? Maruki was the one who made all of those people outside of the Palace act so, so strangely? Maruki was the one brainwashing everyone into this false happiness, when he’d always been so sincerely kind before?

Akechi questioned him further, and while Kasumi could process that his tone was more urgent now, she could barely hear his words. It was as if a persistent static had taken up residence in her mind again, muffling her thoughts, muffling her hearing. Her fingertips felt numb. She had to check and make sure she was still holding her sword and hadn’t dropped it, before the action registered as ridiculous to her faintly. What was she going to do with it? Was she really going to try to stab _Maruki_?

Her world had been knocked askew, and she was still trying to find her footing.

“I’ve gained the power to alter reality… to make it whatever the people wish for,” Maruki said.

 _We didn’t wish for this_ , Kasumi thought back as fiercely as she could, but her tongue was like lead in her mouth, and the words would not come. How could they have wished for a world like this, where everyone’s expressions were always the same, and nobody was able to express how they truly felt? How could they want a reality where everything was painted over with the same unfair brush strokes of one person’s definition of “happiness”?

Akira responded, but Kasumi didn’t hear what he said. Her eyes were fixed on Maruki, her breathing ragged. What were they all saying…? Did it even matter? Why was Maruki doing this? What was he thinking? Kasumi had trusted him, with all of her heart and soul, and now here he was standing across from her as if she was the one in the wrong, him in his white, crisp suit and her in black leather. He stood in the spotlight, and she felt as though she was in the shadows, masked and lurking, and for the first time, she almost felt ashamed of it.

“The truth is, Yoshizawa-san suffers immense pain each and every time she taps into her forgotten past,” Maruki said, and it was as if everything snapped into crystal clarity as soon as he said her name. Her gaze focused on him, her breath hitching.

The headaches. The way she’d constantly wondered what truth she was running from. The endless ways it felt like _everything_ was trying to keep her away, trying to keep her from moving forward.

“Forgotten past”, he said. Was that the truth she so desperately needed to know?

_Only tragedy awaits you beyond here._

“My past…?” she whispered softly. Beside her, Akechi and Akira were both still, as if they couldn’t--or were unwilling--to interrupt. That was fine, she thought. This was her problem, and that meant it was her problem to resolve. She drew herself up, fire flaring in her soul again.

“Dr. Maruki, what do you mean?!” she asked, tone almost plaintive, even in her fierceness. “What’s happened to me?!”

 _What have you done to me_? she thought fiercely but could not seem to find the words to say, not to that gentle face that she had thought she knew so well.

Maruki sighed at that, shaking his head almost regretfully, but his expression hardly changed, and Kasumi wondered. Was it the facade of regret, like her clothing and his Palace? Or was he truly regretful in this moment, but unable to properly show it? Could she even ever truly know for certain?

“I had honestly hoped that all those warnings you were given would change your minds…”

Who even _was_ Maruki? He clearly was not the person she knew and respected. Not if these warnings he was talking about were his fault. The headaches stopping her from reaching the truth had been blinding agony. Surely the kind and gentle Maruki she knew wouldn’t have ever done such a thing…? Or perhaps she had been blind all along, blind to the person he had been this whole time, just as she’d been clueless as to Akechi’s true self.

This one hurt so much more than Akechi’s sharp edges; at least with Akechi, she’d come to understand the person he truly was. But this… Kasumi wasn’t sure she’d ever understand Maruki like this.

“But if it’s your true desire,” he continued, eyes fixed on Kasumi, “then I want you to recall who you really are.”

Kasumi’s breath caught in the back of her throat; there was something so threatening about those words. She wanted to know the truth--didn’t she? That was such a large part of why she’d come this far. So why did his words drip with almost condescending pity? But things were moving too quickly now. Even if she wanted him to stop, it was too late. There was no fleeing now, not now that she was here.

Kasumi planted her feet to stand her ground.

He lifted a hand and smiled at her. “Once you have, you’ll need to choose between the two realities: the merciless one, or the one I’ve formed.”

And then he snapped his fingers, and it was like glass shattered in Kasumi’s mind.

She was vaguely aware of a screen sliding down, vaguely aware of Akechi and Akira beside her, but only vaguely--far more pressing, far more _sudden_ was the influx of memories that she’d been both reaching for and avoiding for so, so long. Her sister--Kasumi. Herself--Sumire. Of course, she thought almost faintly. Of course that was what it was. Of course her father had been so concerned for all this time.

She’d been pretending to be--

It nearly made her feel ill, and she swayed where she stood, eyes wide but entirely unseeing, a wince on her face.

_“We’ll reach the top of the world together.”_

It was as if Kasumi was right there whispering in her ear, smiling at her, just as she’d used to. As if Sumire hadn’t been the one to kill her. As if Sumire wasn’t the waste of space who had taken _her_ place undeservingly.

In the back of her mind, Cendrillon whispered something gently that Sumire ignored, shaking her head vigorously. She’d tried so hard to reach for Cendrillon over the past week, but now she was certain it wasn’t something she wanted--no, _deserved_ to hear. And just as she shook away that voice, she lost her grip on what made her a Persona user. Her Phantom Thief outfit, her image of rebellion--or was that her sister’s too? Had she stolen that from her as well?--faded away into her winter coat, leaving Sumire helpless.

It was sinking in now, after all. The truth that she’d been running away from all this time was finally sinking in, and it was more than she could bear.

_“That’s our dream, right?”_

Sumire reached up to dig her hands into her hair sharply, tugging at the strands almost manically, as if that would get the world to make _sense_. The ribbon came undone, fluttering to the ground behind her and she ignored it as she bit back sobs. She was a _murderer_. She’d murdered her own amazing, wonderful sister, the one everyone else had always wanted, the one who the world needed.

The world needed Kasumi.

Who needed Sumire?

Not even _Sumire_ needed Sumire. Again, more urgently, Cendrillon reached out to her, but Sumire could barely make out her words. Maruki spoke at the same time, drowning her Persona out before she could even begin to try to listen more closely. 

“...Seems you remembered.” The smile was gone, at least, but it was too late for that to be any comfort to Sumire. He looked solemn, but distant, as if observing a fascinating stranger.

She dipped her head, whispering to herself disbelievingly, “That’s right… I’m…”

Sumire. She was Sumire. She had always been Sumire.

Was this the lie she’d been playing at? She’d dressed up as her sister to go to the ball, but in the end, she always had to go back to being herself--drab, useless, and pitiful, covered in ashes.

“Kasumi?” Akira asked quietly at her side, and her--no, her sister’s name in his voice was like a dagger twisted in her gut. Her breath hitched. She couldn’t turn to look at him, not now, though she wondered just how much hatred and loathing must have been on his face.

After all, she’d been deceiving him all this time.

After all, she wasn’t the person that he’d come to like and trust. She wasn’t his companion. She wasn’t his friend.

It was time to come clean, as much as it hurt.

“No,” she whispered. Each word was dragged from her throat reluctantly. “That’s not right. I’m… I’m not Kasumi…!”

From behind her, Akechi shifted in place. His voice was quiet as he finally interjected, and his tone was almost soft. “The girl named Kasumi Yoshizawa is currently deceased.”

Sumire felt a near-hysterical laugh bubble up in her throat. How long had Akechi known? Was that what he had been hiding from her? How… absolutely ridiculous, for someone else to know who she really was before even she did. She couldn’t blame him, though. He must have thought she was an absolute lunatic to be playing at being her dead sister. The thought made her ill, and she was unable to take any comfort from how strangely gentle his tone had been.

“You saw it for yourselves,” she said, voice wobbling. Hadn’t that been what Maruki had shown them on that screen? Her living nightmare, her sister’s murder, for all to see. She deserved that though, didn’t she? Sumire deserved it all.

She swallowed, head bowing further, hair falling like a curtain to hide her face. “I was saved by Kasumi…”

Sumire swayed, her head feeling light and stuffed with cotton. She couldn’t breathe. She could barely speak, and yet it felt like she needed to get these words out. She needed her companions--no, _Kasumi’s_ companions--to know what she’d done. She needed their condemnation alongside her own. Now that she remembered everything, she was desperate for it.

“I robbed her of her dreams…” Sumire said, gaspingly, “...and even her life!”

The world tipped, or maybe it was only her vision, and then Sumire was on her knees, clutching at her head. Had her vision always swam like this? Was it tears, or was it her inability to drag enough oxygen into her lungs? Cendrillon called out again, her voice like bells, but she was too far away from Sumire now for her to hear.

“I’m… her younger sister,” she said. “I’m Sumire Yoshizawa.”

There was power in words. The moment she said it out loud, she knew that she’d crossed a line there was no returning from. She was the dull, useless, horrible person that Sumire Yoshizawa was, and even worse, even more horribly, that meant that Kasumi was truly gone. As soon as she said those words… didn’t it mean Kasumi was no longer part of this world? Somehow, that was the bitterest thing of all.

Kasumi had shone so, so brightly. Even in the past week, Kasumi had grown so much and learned so much. And for what? For Sumire to once again steal it all away from her. Sumire could not even make use of Kasumi’s newfound strength and resolve, because it did not belong to her.

Maruki was speaking, but Sumire couldn’t hear him. Her head throbbed, and all she could focus on was taking deep, ragged breaths. She was pitiful, wasn’t she? Kasumi would have handled this so much better, she was certain. Why… why had Kasumi been the one to die? Sumire would give up her place in a heartbeat if it meant Kasumi would have lived.

 _No_!

The voice was crystal clear and sharp, and Sumire dragged in a shaky breath, looking around. Nobody was there… it was strange, but for a moment, she had thought that she’d heard Kasumi’s voice. Had it only been in her own head…? It echoed in a way that felt so familiar.

“Considering such an odd claim,” Akechi said, voice still oddly quiet, “I’d actually suspected for a moment that she was the Palace Ruler…”

_Listen, if she becomes a liability, then we must be prepared to take some sort of action._

Right. Akechi had truly been trying to prepare for this eventuality all along, hadn’t he? Sumire thought that maybe she should have felt offended, but all she could feel was dull acceptance. She owed them answers, didn’t she? The weight of their silence after Akechi trailed off landed heavily on her shoulders.

Sumire dragged in a shaky breath. “After Kasumi died,” she said softly, tone as dulled as her feelings, “but before I started at Shujin, I received counseling from Dr. Maruki. That was when I told him…”

Again, she had to bite back laughter that she knew was hysterics. It was all so obvious now that she remembered, wasn’t it? Of course she’d forgotten herself. Of course she’d thought she was Kasumi. Dr. Maruki was making everyone “happy”--no matter what it took for them to live their “best” life. Her life was worthless, wasn’t it? So of course he made her into her sister. He was simply following his beliefs. How could she blame him? This, too, had to be all her own fault.

Somehow, she continued, each word leaving her tongue laboriously. “If Kasumi is gone and can’t make her dream come true… then I want to _become_ Kasumi, so I can turn her dream into reality for her.”

They were quiet for a moment, and Sumire braced herself for their condemnation. How must it feel for them, she wondered, to have trusted someone who no longer was alive? Thinking about how she was losing that place where she felt so comfortable, where she felt like she _belonged_ hurt worse than the worst blow she’d taken in the Palace, but she was certain it was all she deserved, and so she remained silent, waiting for that final word on the matter. 

Akechi spoke first, and that, she knew, was that--Akechi certainly wouldn’t hold back on how stupid she’d been. Akechi had never once spared her feelings, so she was certain that he would give her that condemnation she was searching for. Instead, though, to her confusion, he turned his attention to Maruki, disdain dripping from his words. “So that’s why you meddled with her cognition? For her own wishes?”

‘Meddled’...? Sumire finally stirred a little, brow furrowing, her fingers sliding through the strands of her hair a little. No, no he hadn’t meddled with her cognition… had he? As Maruki said, these had been her own wishes. So even if he had meddled with her cognition, it had been with just cause. Wasn’t it? If he had meddled with her mind, it had been because she’d asked for him to.

Something about Akechi’s tone resonated with her, though, niggling at the back of her brain.

It made her want to stand up, though her legs felt like jelly and her head swam and she knew she’d never make it to her feet. What if Akechi was right? What if these self-defeating thoughts did not all truly belong to her?

“Who would be able to cope with that survivor’s guilt, let alone heal from the emotional scarring she’s suffered?” Maruki’s voice dripped with pity, and each word was like a knife. Her confidence, her certainty… it faded with each word, her head aching. What was she thinking? It was true. There was no way that Sumire could ever have recovered. Maruki was saying it himself, and she knew that he had no reason to lie. How could she have ever believed…?

“If Sumire-san can live a healthy, positive life by becoming Kasumi-san… then I believe that reality is what would make her happy,” Maruki said simply, crossing his arms calmly.

Akechi glanced at Sumire briefly, eyes narrowing for a moment as he took in her appearance and her defeated posture. Then he snarled under his breath. “I’ve had enough of your high-and-mighty rationalization. All you really did was _use_ her to try and make everyone acknowledge the validity of your research.”

His tone was so fierce that even in the midst of her wallowing, it made Sumire pause. Maruki’s research…? It was true that the door had opened for her--because she’d been a patient, right? Or was it as Akechi had said all along, and because she was nothing more than a lab rat? It tore at her, the two opposing sides. Maruki’s gentle voice tugged at her will of rebellion and resistance, wearing it down as if it had never been there far-too-easily.

But Akechi’s words stoked that fire in her, a fire that she was surprised had still yet to go out. Sumire was certain she had never had that sort of fire in her; that had always been all Kasumi’s determination. So where was it coming from?

“My work will convert the wishes of the people into reality,” Maruki said, his voice as soft as it had always been in so many of their sessions, where he had helped her move forward and onward.

They were still speaking. Akechi and Maruki, back and forth, each unwilling to back down. But Sumire, her face buried in her hands, wondered how she was supposed to face anyone like this ever again. Her poor father, who had lost the daughter who undoubtedly had to be his most precious. The people at school who had been expecting Kasumi and first place, and instead got Sumire and third. And Akechi and Akira, who had trusted Kasumi, allowed Kasumi to fight by their sides, and in the end--

“Yoshizawa-san. Let me ask you again,” Maruki said, and slowly, reluctantly, Sumire lifted her head, though it throbbed enough that she could barely see straight. Was that due to the Metaverse? She no longer had her costume to protect her from it, after all. He met her eyes dead-on, and asked, “Which reality is it that you wish to inhabit?”

Her lips parted, a softly questioning noise escaping her despite herself. A...choice? Sumire didn’t know if she hoped or dreaded to hear the offer that she thought he was going to make.

“If you so desire, you can return to your life as Sumire,” he said, just as she’d feared. “But if you’d rather continue your life as Kasumi, I can grant that wish for you as well.”

It was as if time stopped. Her breath hitched in her throat.

Wasn’t that… an impossible choice?

She’d been so _happy_ as Kasumi over the past week. She’d finally found a place to belong, and Akechi and Akira had accepted her through her hard work and determination and fierce attitude as _Kasumi_. Surely… they would never accept Sumire in the same way. Losing that place frightened her, just as the thought of finally erasing Kasumi from this world entirely frightened her.

Could she kill Kasumi again? Again, it would be at her hands that Kasumi would be removed from this world.

“Believe in yourself,” Akira said softly from behind her, but she couldn’t look at him. How could she turn to look at the senpai she cared about so much when she wasn’t even the person he’d always thought she was?

There must have been something about her defeated posture that made her choice clear, because Akira opened his mouth again, searching for words, and Akechi hissed out a frustrated noise.

“Yoshizawa-san, you--” Akechi began to say, but Sumire shook her head, knowing that if she allowed Akechi to speak, she’d lose her nerve. His words had too much of an impact on her. She found herself believing in them far too much, far too easily, and that was dangerous. Instead, she breathed out softly, “It’s impossible.”

Akechi fell silent behind her. She wondered if she’d let him down or if he’d always expected this from her, and found that she cared a great deal more about which it was than she could’ve ever expected. When had she come to this position, where Akechi’s opinion of her mattered to her so much…? She didn’t want him to hate her. She didn’t want him to think of her as pathetic. But even so... this was the obvious right answer. She could live a better life as Kasumi. Kasumi had always been the better person, the sibling more _deserving_ of life. Sumire knew it. Maruki knew it. She didn’t understand why Akira and Akechi didn’t also clearly understand what was so obvious.

It didn’t really feel like a choice at all, not presented like this. If her choices were between a world with Kasumi and a world without, even if it meant Sumire had to disappear… it wasn’t a choice. So she swallowed back every single part of her that protested--surely those were just the parts of her that were still lingeringly Kasumi--and accepted the choice she had to make.

“I… I can’t go back to being her…” Sumire said as she slowly, agonizingly stood. “I can’t be the one who led her sister to her death…!”

Maruki broke in then, voice soothing. “Try not to judge her.” 

The grin on his face belied the words and tone alike, though, and she didn’t feel reassured. It was a voice she’d grown used to listening to, to _believing in_ , after so long. She wanted to believe in it now, but somehow, she was still too ashamed to turn around and look at Akechi and Akira. They were silent behind her, but the silence was so weighty Sumire felt as though she’d crumble. This choice was supposed to make her happy, wasn’t it? So why did it feel as though her entire heart was being ripped into pieces?

“Come now,” Maruki continued, tilting his head gently. “Won’t you accept my reality for your own happiness?”

Suddenly, part of Sumire hoped they’d accept. They could all live happy lives together--her as Kasumi, Akira as her senpai, and Akechi as their good friend as well.

… It didn’t feel right. The moment the thought struck her, it felt wrong, like a cold pit dropped into her stomach. Something about it felt off, as she thought about Akechi living a happy life with them, smiling and content, of Akira giving up on his friends to just live this life like this. That would be… selfish, wouldn’t it? Because she couldn’t imagine people like them accepting this sort of life, regardless of how “happy” it promised to make them. (So what sort of person did that make her?)

_“... When everything is like this, I think it’s even more important to have that sort of honesty.”_

She’d said that, hadn’t she? It felt like a thousand years ago now, but that had been something she’d said to him. Akechi impressed her because he was so thoroughly _himself_. It wouldn’t be right if he was forced to be someone else for the sake of some overarching, harmonic “happiness”.

“I’d rather die,” Akechi said clearly, nothing but contempt for Maruki in his voice, and Akira followed it up with a straightforward, calm, “I’ll make my own happiness.”

Sumire was surprised to find that she felt more relieved than anything that they’d answered that way. But why? This was the best option. This was what would lead to happiness for her, she was sure of it, so why was she so relieved that they didn’t comply? Her relief meant that these people she admired staying true to themselves mattered to her more than her own happiness.

The realization shook her to her core, and for a moment, it was as though everything slowed down. Sumire loved her sister, there was no denying that--she loved her just as she envied her with all of her being. That uglier emotion that she had to acknowledge didn’t lessen the love her heart held for Kasumi.

But even so… was this truly the right choice? Sumire wanted Kasumi to exist in this world, just as she felt she herself didn’t _deserve_ to any longer, that much she knew for certain. But when she finally looked over her shoulder, the expressions on her companions’ faces were not dismissal or derision as she’d feared.

No, instead Akira looked defiant, his brows drawn together and furrowed, teeth grit as he stared at Maruki over her shoulder. Akechi’s expression was thoroughly furious, a snarl on his face that she’d only ever seen leveled towards Shadows that had got in their way, and he, too, was focused entirely on Maruki. But he noticed her glance back at him, his gaze flickering to her, and when their eyes met, he arched a sardonic eyebrow.

“Well, Yoshizawa-san?” he said, ignoring Maruki in favor of speaking to her. His tone lacked the sharp edge that it had when he spoke to Maruki; it wasn’t gentle, not exactly, but it was unexpectedly patient. “Is that _truly_ your answer?”

The way Akira looked at her was the same as the way he’d looked at “Kasumi”. The way Akechi spoke to her was the same as well. It was an understanding that took her breath away with its sudden impact, sharp relief and pain intermingled in her chest as she _realized_ \--this time she’d spent with them had not been her sister’s. It had been _hers_.

That was it, wasn’t it? It was almost terribly simple, and Sumire couldn’t believe how stupid she’d been. It was true that she still could not imagine a life without her sister. It was true also that she still believed Kasumi deserved to live this life more than she did. But… the prospect did not seem quite so daunting, so absolutely insurmountable when she knew she had a _place_ to return to, a place that was all Sumire’s, a place she’d carved out with two people she trusted with all of her heart.

Perhaps she wasn’t Cinderella. She had never matched up to Kasumi before, and of course she could not match up to her now. But… perhaps she didn’t need to be. Those glass slippers were likely shattered by now, just as Kasumi’s phone was, and what good would shattered glass do Sumire? It would do nothing but slice into her heels, sending her down to her knees. If that was truly the case, then… did she need them?

She opened her mouth to respond to Akechi, conflicted uncertainty on her face, and did not see the way that Maruki’s brows drew together in immediate frustration at her clear conflict.

The lights snapped on in their faces before she could say a thing, and Sumire covered her eyes with a startled noise. She’d only just blinked the blackness from her vision when the tentacles came her way, and it was automatic after so many battles fought, the way that she reached into the back of her mind for Cendrillon’s comforting power. There was no response--of course not, she was still not _Kasumi_ \--and without Cendrillon she had no way to defend herself. The tentacle snapped around her and she let out a yelp as she was jerked forward with enough force to give her whiplash, her arms pressed to her sides uselessly.

Of course it had turned out like this… She wasn’t Cinderella after all. She was the wicked stepsister, the one who had tried robbing Cinderella of her dreams and happiness. She was the one who had killed her sister, the sister that everyone had loved, herself included. All along, she’d been the villain. It was only fitting the Cendrillon wouldn’t come to her now--but even so, it felt like the last blow her heart could take. Even her own carefully cultivated strength wasn’t something she could count on. Even that… had never belonged to her.

She could vaguely hear Akechi and Akira responding, but their words were too far away for her to reach now. The tentacle swept her away, and without her Persona’s resistances and strength, she was too fragile to take it; blackness infringed on the edges of her vision and mind. She could keep trying to resist. She was concerned for Akira and Akechi, and what Maruki intended on doing to them. But everything seemed so far, far away now, too far away for her to reach.

Sumire had never been anything special anyway.

The clock struck midnight in her mind, and then Sumire fled from a truth she couldn’t hope to handle alone, leaving “Kasumi” behind. But even as her consciousness slipped away, her vision growing blurry and faded, her eyes fell upon Akechi and Akira, both staring up at her. It was difficult to see their expressions beneath their masks as she dangled there, but even so, in every line of their bodies she felt as though she could read defiance.

It was strange. She made this choice (hadn’t she?) and it would make her happy (wouldn’t it?) and yet her very last thought was that they were the only two who would ever be able to save Sumire. It was sudden the way that she realized she hoped they _would_ , that she truly did wish to be saved, and then her consciousness faded away, and Sumire unwillingly closed her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the belatedness on this chapter! Work crunch time came for my life and put me way behind schedule, but I hope that the ending and wrapping up the piece makes up for it.
> 
> Because we finally made it! Whew, what a journey. A huge thanks to everyone who stuck with me for the whole thing; your support and enjoyment and kind comments really made posting this a joy. ♥
> 
> For now, this brings us back to rejoining with canon and to the end of this story--thanks for reading and coming all this way with me!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a finished piece, but we're in for a long journey, friends. Updates weekly on Friday!
> 
> With endless thanks to my own kouhai and my roommate both for reading things over, editing, and letting me ramble at them for hours on end about this story.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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